


America's New Hope

by BeggarWhoRides



Series: Red, White, and Blue AU [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Orphan Black (TV)
Genre: Alternate universe - Marvel, Chapter-specific Warnings in Notes, F/F, Gen, Gratuitous Bisexuality, Period-Typical Antisemitism, Period-Typical Homophobia, Period-Typical Sexism, Period-Typical Transphobia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-19
Updated: 2015-12-20
Packaged: 2018-04-10 05:05:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 24
Words: 73,670
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4378250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BeggarWhoRides/pseuds/BeggarWhoRides
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In 1943, Doctor Delphine Cormier began work on Project Rebirth, and caught the eye of consultant and researcher Cosima Niehaus.</p>
<p>In 2011, a Russian oil team discovered a plane wreck in the arctic. </p>
<p>In between, scientific breakthroughs were made, families were tested, a war was fought--</p>
<p>And two women fell in love. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>(Or, the Captain America  AU/Crossover nobody asked for)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. One

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings this chapter for: Period-typical homophobia and use of the word "queer."

__

“Is that…” 

“It is.” 

“It can’t be.” 

“Oh, but it is.” The lieutenant grinned, wider than he ever had before. “Get me a line to the Colonel. I don’t care what time it is, and neither will he.” 

The shield shone in the ice, catching what little light there was and reflecting it. The red, white, and blue seemed to glow. 

“I’ll tell you why he won’t mind. We’ve just found Captain America.” 

  
__

__

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------

_April 1943_

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Seriously? _These_ are the recruits?” 

“They’re the best the military has to offer, Doctor Niehaus.” It was obvious that the Major showing her around the base had lost patience with her several questions ago, and was barely managing to be civil now. “Their commanding officers are well-respected, and have chosen only their most elite of their elite forces.” 

“No wonder Japan wasn’t afraid to bomb us,” Cosima Niehaus muttered, staring across the gym at a small group of soldiers running through a drill. They all looked the same with slight differences in hair color--big, vulgar, and with more brawn than brains. “Is this really the best this country has?” 

“The recruiting has only just begun,” the Major retorted, Cosima quietly congratulating herself on finally getting the man to snap. “Perhaps if the scientists were working a bit harder on the serum--” 

“Perhaps the scientists would work harder if we had more motivation. At least find us some halfway decent subjects. Although…” She gestured toward a woman who was currently putting one man in headlock. “She seems--” 

“Agent Carter is here as a consultant and trainer from England. The subject chosen for Project Rebirth will be of the appropriate nationality. And definitely of the appropriate _gender.”_

“Oh. Of course.” The sarcasm that oozed from her words was almost thick enough to be visible. “My mistake, sir. Silly, silly me.” 

The Major didn’t bother responding, simply falling into parade rest and very clearly trying to ignore her. 

Cosima sighed, pushing back one of the many dark brown curls that always managed to slip out of place. _Why do I even bother,_ she wondered as it happily bounced free again. Of the many things that Doctor Cosima Niehaus wished she could do in public and get away with, one high on her list was just throwing her dark hair into a ponytail and being done with it. Even brushing the wild mess was an ordeal most mornings, not to mention the struggle to get the curls to sit in some way that was near socially acceptable. 

Deciding to at least appear to be doing something scientific before Major Yuck decided to pull her off the premises altogether, she pulled out a notebook and scribbled a few basic notes. 

The men in front of her weren’t bad _soldiers._ They certainly had muscles, and were better at following orders than even the most well-trained dog. The issue was the fact that they loved to joke about “blastin’ all the fuckin’ Krauts,” and “blowin’ ol’ Germany right off the map,” and that one of the men had actually _killed a dachshund because it was German--_

Well. These were not the type of men she’d ever inject even saline into, much less super-serum. 

“You rationed, sugar?” a gruff male voice called in what he clearly thought was a charming tone. 

_Case in point..._ Cosima half-groaned, looking up automatically--

_Oh._

__

Holy…

There was another woman striding across the gym, which was shocking enough in itself, but this woman...

This woman was a goddess on Earth. 

The Major at her side straightened up as she came nearer, puffing out his chest and straightening his shoulders. All the soldiers had paused in their drill to look over at her--and so had the woman, Agent Carter, which was an interesting bit of information to file away. 

“What’s your name, honey?” 

The woman just kept walking, blonde curls bouncing against her white lab coat as she crossed over to where Cosima and the Major stood. 

“Dr. Cormier.” The Major honest-to-God saluted before crossing over to the blonde, sticking out one hand importantly. Cosima had barely warranted a head nod when they were introduced. “I apologize for not meeting you earlier, I wasn’t told you’d arrived.”

“It’s no problem,” Dr. Cormier said with an easy smile-- _oh she’s **French**_ \--taking his hand briefly. “It gave me the time to explore the base myself.” She then turned to Cosima with a questioning look, and it was only then she realized that she’d been staring. 

“This is Dr. Niehaus,” the Major added, having noticed as well. “She’s been working with Mr. Stark and Dr. Erskine on Project Rebirth.” 

“Miss Cormier,” a crisp voice interrupted. The British agent had crossed over to them, a somewhat-stiff smile painting her red lips. Cosima dropped Dr. Cormier--Delphine’s--gaze absurdly quickly, an irrational blush coloring her cheeks, seeing as they were doing nothing wrong. “Glad to see you’re doing well.” 

“Miss Carter. Good to see you again.” 

“It is Agent, actually.” 

“Forgive me, I thought we’d dropped the titles. Seeing as I am a doctor.” 

“I always forget.” 

Cosima glanced awkwardly between the two women, who were currently smiling and turning the air as cold as ice. 

“So...you two know each other?” 

“I had the pleasure of helping Mr. Stark extract Miss Cormier from France several months ago.” 

“...Right.” Cosima stuck her hands in her coat pockets. “I see you have some catching up to--” 

“Oh, I won’t keep Miss Cormier any longer. Take care, Doctor…?” 

“Ah, Niehaus.” Quickly taking the agent’s offered hand, Cosima couldn’t help but notice the way the woman seemed fonder of her than Delphine. 

Which was ridiculous, considering what Delphine looked like. 

“It’s a pleasure, Dr. Niehaus.” 

“Same here, Agent. Or it’s spiffing to meet you, old thing, or whatever it is you say in England.” 

Agent Carter winced slightly at Cosima’s attempt at a British accent, though to her credit she didn’t cover her ears in pain. 

“The accent could use some work, huh?” 

“Just a bit.” There was heavy sarcasm, but no real cruelty to the other woman’s words. “Well, good day to you both.” 

The agent crossed back to her recruits, tossing a few orders to them as she went--and leaving two doctors staring awkwardly at each other in her wake. 

“So...Doctor Cormier, huh?” 

“Ah, yes.” The blonde smiled at Cosima, a bit hesitantly. “I hadn’t realized there were other Germans working on the project.” 

“Oh I’m--I’m not,” Cosima said quickly. “Well, someone was, back in the family line, but I’m from San Francisco. American, born and bred.” 

“Oh.” Dr. Cormier’s smile seemed more genuine now, her shoulders relaxing. “I hadn’t realized other women would be working on the Project either.” 

“You and me both.” With a bit of an effort, Cosima stilled the hands that had started dancing in the air with her explanation of her family history, only for the blonde to offer her own.

“Delphine.” 

“Cosima,” she said brightly, the other woman’s hand warm in her own

_“Enchantée.”_

“En-chan-tay.”  


\----------------------------------------------------------------------------

“You don’t _understand,_ Sarah,” Cosima half-moaned, running a hand through her hair.

“So you’ve said. Several times.” 

“She was...there’s honeys and then there’s _honeys._ She was a _honey._ And _French.”_

“So you’ve _said.”_

Sarah Manning wasn’t Cosima’s blood, but was Cosima’s sister in every way that mattered. She, her twin sister Helena, Cosima, and a whole slew of others were all affectionately dubbed “S’s strays”--a group of parentless kids and runaways, all crammed under one roof in Brooklyn. The house was constantly full of noise, the room Sarah, Cosima, and Sarah’s twin shared only semi-private, even with a locked door and Helena out doing whatever it was she did during the day. 

“You met a swell gal at work today. I hear ya, Cos.” Sarah sighed, rolling her eyes. 

“Sorry, sorry.” Cosima leaned back, her head thumping against the wall. “I don’t know what to do.” 

“Isn’t it obvious? _Nothing,”_ Sarah added at Cosima’s blank stare. 

“Sarah--” 

“She’s probably normal, or straight, or whatever you lot call it these days.” 

“Oh, of course, I really needed reminding of that.” 

“I think you _do,_ Cos.” Sarah sat forward slightly, while Cosima determinedly looked anywhere else. “She’s never going to appreciate any advances you make, if you’re _lucky._ If you’re not, she’ll report you, and then where will you be?” 

“I don’t need you to mother me, Sarah, I’m _perfectly aware_ of what I am.” 

“Look, I don’t care. You know that, right? Look at me,” Sarah added, reaching forward to lay a hand on Cosima’s knee. “But even if she doesn’t mind either--hell, even if she _enjoys_ it--your bosses are gonna mind. How hard did you work to get your job? Huh? You’ve only got a consulting job because you kicked up so much of a fuss, they put you in a position to shut you up.” 

“Because I don’t have any talent--” 

“That’s not what I said,” Sarah said with an annoyed huff. “But that’s all that matters to them, we both know it. They’ll get rid of you the first chance they get--and getting fruity with the new girl is offering them a rather big chance.” 

“Is there a point to this or are you just going to tell me what I already know?” Cosima made a movement to stand and Sarah sighed, catching her arm. 

“Cosima, look, just stay away from her--” 

“Just don’t be queer, that’s what you’re saying.” 

“Maybe it is.” 

“You _bitch--”_

“I’m trying to _help.”_

“I don’t want it.” 

“Cosima, you’re my sister. I love you, and God knows I need ya. But what I really need is you not in prison. Or, God forbid, you unemployed and at home all day again ranting about discrimination--” 

“It _is_ discrimination, Sarah! I’m better than half the dolts in the field, and my gender or queerness has fuck-all to do with it.” 

_“I_ know that, Cos. But they don’t. And they’re the ones with power.” Sarah suddenly looked smaller, exhausted, and Cosima remembered who she was talking to--the unwed pregnant ruffian, hiding in her adopted mother’s house with a slowly swelling belly. Cosima hesitated for a moment, then reach out to grab her sister’s hand. 

“I’m sorry.” 

“Just...be _careful,_ Cos.” Sarah squeezed back. “I can’t do this without you, yeah? An’ my kid needs a crazy aunt.” 

“Aw, thanks,” Cosima half-laughed. “I’ll be the craziest aunt you can find.” 

“Don’t make me regret this, you monkey.” 

The two grinned at each other for a moment, then turned toward the window--just in time to see Sarah’s frizzy-haired blonde twin climbing in through it.

“Jesus, Helena, what the hell?” Sarah hauled Helena in through the window, straightening out her twin’s pink gingham skirt that had gotten hiked up above her knees. “You want every Tom, Dick and Harry in the street seeing your panties?” 

“The men do not mind.” 

“That is _not_ the point,” Sarah grumbled, trying--for the near-hundredth time--to explain the nuances of social conventions to her twin. 

Cosima couldn’t help it and she didn’t bother trying--she burst into laughter.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------

The next morning, Cosima found herself spending an extra ten minutes on her hair and makeup trying to look a few shades better than she normally did--and then poking herself in the eye when she finally finished her makeup and tried to put her black cateye glasses on. 

“Oh damn,” she hissed, grabbing a handkerchief and dabbing her eye. She was already behind as it was, and Howard had threatened to lock her out of the lab if she was more than forty-five minutes late again, so she gave it up as a lost cause and grabbed her glasses, nearly running into her dark-haired foster brother Felix on her way out. 

“Bloody hell, Cos, where’s the fire?” 

“I’m late, okay?” 

“Yeah, you’re always late. You also never care. So what’s-- _oh.”_ The smirk growing on Felix’s face was one Cosima knew well from six years of being his sister, and also a smirk that meant nothing good. _“She’s_ starting today, isn’t she?” 

“Look, there’s some delicate research--” 

“Delicate research? Or a delicate Frenchie you’d like to get your hands on?” 

“Did Sarah tell _everyone?”_ Cosima groaned, stopping her attempts to get around Felix in the narrow hallway. 

“Nah, just me. I think she was hoping I could talk some sense into you, one queer to another.” 

“Jesus,” Cosima sighed exasperatedly. “Save the speech, Felix--” 

“Hey, I said she was hoping, not I was going to. I’m all for admiring from afar, sweetheart. But if I can just--” He reach out with slender fingers to swipe underneath the eye Cosima’d poked with her glasses, fingers coming away black with excess eyeliner. After a few moments of squinting at her hair, Felix also rearranged a few pieces of her hair. 

“Are you helping me? I thought you’d be on Sarah’s side with the whole stay-far-away thing.”

“Oh believe me darling, I am. But there’s nothing wrong with a little watching and fantasizing--and no sister of mine is leaving the house looking like a homeless--”

“And there goes my gratitude,” Cosima half-laughed, cutting him off as he reach out and fluffed a few of her curls. _“Felix._ I’m going to miss my bus.”

“All right, all right. You look decent, at least. And S wants everyone home by six--she’s insisting on a family meal again.”

“Jeeze. Those always end well.” She glanced at her wristwatch and moaned. “And my bus is leaving in two minutes, Stark is going to _kill_ me, see you later Felix!” 

“Bye darling,” he called as Cosima dashed for the door. “Get a few good looks at Frenchie in her lab coat!” 

“Oh, go shag your boyfriend!” she called back, running out of the house and making it to the bus stop just before it pulled away, much to the bus driver’s annoyance. At least the ride itself was relatively quiet, and she only arrived at Stark Industries ten minutes late. 

“Doctor Niehaus. How nice of you to join us.” 

“Always a pleasure, Mr. Stark,” Cosima replied, heart skipping a beat when she saw a familiar head of blonde curls on the other side of the lab. 

“Only ten minutes late, is that a new record?” 

“Always late, sir, always sorry.” Noticing a free microscope near where Delphine was sitting, Cosima grabbed a set of slides with liver cells from the latest batch of lab rats and slid into the seat next to her. She fiddled with her glasses for a nervous moment before grinning over at the other woman. “Hey.” 

“Bonjour, Doctor Niehaus.” Delphine had blinked in surprise, then turned to beam at Cosima.

“Oh, come on, call me Cosima. No need for that super-formal stuff.” 

“Well then, you must call me Delphine.” 

“Okay.” Cosima was sure she had the world’s stupidest grin on her face as she added, “Well then, hey Delphine.”

“Bonjour, Cosima,” Delphine smiled warmly. “What are you working on?” 

“Oh, just checking a few liver slides,” she explained quickly, gesturing unnecessarily to the box. “Erskine’s serum is basically complete, but U.S. senators have always been overcautious with science they don’t understand, so we’re running some extra tests while we try to improve it. And to be fair, a few of the mice did show some cirrhosis, so…” 

“Yes, I saw in the files,” Delphine said, motioning with the papers in her hand. “The science here is very impressive. Yours, especially.” 

“I’m just a consultant, really--”

“Yes, a consultant who suggested the use of Vita-Rays. And then, when Mr. Stark dismissed the idea, ran the tests yourself to prove their effectiveness.” 

“I just figured, it worked for plants--”

“And since bone density and strength is being increased, concentrated sunlight would be necessary.” 

“Yeah, plus there are some links between vitamin D levels and metabolism--”

“--Not to mention some links between muscle weakness and a vitamin D deficiency.” 

“Exactly.” They both smiled at each other, Cosima’s cheeks starting to hurt and Delphine’s smile a bit more cautious, but with the same radiance. 

“Ladies! Less chatter, more science!” 

Delphine’s call of “Yes, Mr. Stark,” contrasted sharply with Cosima’s drawl of “Yessir,” but the effect was the same as both women turned back to their respective work, each glancing up at the other from time to time.

_Just stay away from her,_ Sarah had said, and she’d had a point. _Admire from afar,_ Felix had said, making the same good points as Sarah. 

“Hey,” Cosima whispered, while Stark and Erskine were occupied with a few samples. “Wanna go out to lunch later?” 

Delphine smiled that warm smile of hers. 

“I’d love to.”


	2. Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for: A manipulative relationship and implied sex

“Estelle! It is so good to see you!” a bubbly voice rang out as Cosima and Delphine gathered their food in a little automat a few streets away from Stark industries. Two girls--one of them Estelle, presumably--burst into high-pitched chatter a few seats away.

“Delphine,” Cosima said, concerned, and Delphine turned back to face Cosima, looking like she’d seen a ghost. She’d whipped around to look at the girls when one of them had called for Estelle, and still looked a little shaken. “You okay?”

“Yes, I thought I heard--never mind. I’m fine.”

“Okay,” Cosima said as they took their seats, not totally convinced but willing to let it go. “So tell me about France. I’ve never been outside the country myself.” 

“There is not much to say,” Delphine replied, taking a sip of her coffee. “I was raised in Lille. I lived there until the war. I fled the city when the Germans came, and when the Germans followed, I fled the country.” 

“No grand stories of, I don’t know, frolicking in the great French wilderness? Playing on the Eiffel Tower?”

“You Americans have such strange ideas of what France is like,” Delphine said with a light laugh. “But no, I have never put much sentiment in places. Home is rooted in the people, not the buildings. I will say this about France, though,” she added when Cosima opened her mouth to comment. “You cannot find cooking like French cooking anywhere in the world.” 

“That’s what I hear,” Cosima replied, laughing as well. “Can you make any of this famous French cooking?” 

“Perhaps, if I can find proper ingredients. It is a delicate art, you know.” 

“Of course. And maybe I’ll cook you a proper American meal, where we just throw everything together and fry it.” 

“Mm, I look forward to it.” 

“Oh, you totally should. I’ve only started five or six fires while cooking.” 

“A practically perfect record.” Delphine picked at her sandwich as they spoke, and Cosima took a bite of her own. “But what is your story, Cosima? How does a girl from San Fransisco end up in New York?”

“How does anyone?” Cosima shrugged, taking a drink of her tea. “I was actually only in San Fran until I was about seven. Dad died in a car accident, Mom wanted to get away. So she went as far as she could, and I grew up mostly in Brooklyn.” 

“I’m sorry,” Delphine said gently, reaching out to place a hand on Cosima’s. 

“It’s nothing, really,” she said, hyper-aware of Delphine’s hand on hers and doing nothing to displace it. “I remember basically none of it, and my Mom and I are the opposite of close anyway. I have this mess of adopted siblings now, we look out for each other.” 

“That sounds nice,” Delphine said with a small smile. “Still. I’m sorry that happened.” 

“Thanks.” Cosima sent Delphine a cautious smile. Delphine flicked her lips up in return before pulling her hand away and busying herself with her food. Cosima did the same, a waitress pausing to pour Delphine a refill of coffee. 

“Have you worked for Mr. Stark long?” she asked after a few moments, Cosima immediately looking up to meet Delphine’s gaze. 

“Just a couple months. He didn’t really want to hire me,” Cosima admitted with a small huff of laughter. “But I’m kind of...really passionate. And hard to ignore when I get really passionate. So I sent him suggestions for his designs until he hired me.” 

“That’s very impressive,” Delphine said, Cosima looking down self-consciously. “He is...a good boss?” 

“Nobody hires girls for anything, so really I’m obligated to say he’s fantastic,” Cosima said, Delphine nodding along. “But he could definitely be worse. He’s always on active duty if you know what I mean--that’s American slang, you totally don’t know what I mean,” she amended at Delphine’s blank look. “He, uh, likes girls. A lot. Always looking for girls. Does that…?” 

“Ah, I understand. _Un coureur de jupons._ A, um, runner of petticoats.” 

“A runner of petticoats?” Cosima snickered. “Yeah, that describes him. I think I’m gonna start using that.” 

“But not you?” 

“Not me what? You mean--oh. Oh, no. No, he’s just...really not my type,” she said quickly, a flash of some sort of emotion flickering through Delphine’s eyes, too fast to see.

“Mm. Well at least he is smart, _non?”_

“Yeah, really it’s his only saving grace,” Cosima said, Delphine smirking as Cosima rolled her eyes. “A real ass, but also a real genius.” 

“Yes, even in France we all know Howard Stark. When I was younger and studying, I always wanted to come to America and hear him speak.”

“‘Course, in his lab, he never shuts up.” 

“He is very chatty,” Delphine admitted. 

“That’s one word for it,” Cosima snorted. “But speaking of him, he’s mad enough at me that I’m always late--I don’t want him to get mad at you too.” 

“Is it that late?” Delphine glanced down at her own wristwatch, blanching slightly at the time. “Oh.” 

“No worries, I know a shortcut,” Cosima reassured the blonde, throwing down enough money to cover both their hot drinks as they both grabbed their coats. 

“Cosima, you don’t have to--” 

“Don’t be ridiculous, it’s your first day! What sort of person would I be if I let the new girl pay for lunch on her first day?” 

“Well, you must let me pay for the next meal.” 

“Okay then. Next meal is on you.” 

They stared at each other for a few moments, both beaming like fools. 

A nearby clock rang on the hour and they both jumped, glancing at their own watches and then each other before running for the door. 

“Your shortcut would be very useful, Cosima!” Delphine said, staring anxiously at her watch as she jogged down the street. 

“It’s this way,” Cosima said and--before she could think about it--took her hand, wrapping her fingers around Delphine’s slender ones and running.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Delphine?” Cosima called softly. “It’s almost 5:30, I’ve gotta go--are you gonna head out too, or can you lock up the lab when you’re done?”

“Oh, I’ll lock it up,” Delphine replies, “I would just like to finish this before I go.” She gestures to the pile of files and reports arranged neatly around her, containing what looks like every daily status report since the Strategic Scientific Reserve began Project Rebirth, three months ago. “You have done so much work in so little time.” 

“Well, I’m sure we’ll do even more now that we’ve got you to help.” 

“I can only hope,” Delphine said brightly. Cosima hesitated for a moment, trying to think of something witty to say, before remembering that she had a job to do.

“You’re not using any actual serum samples, right?” When Delphine shook her head no, a look of confusion on her face, Cosima quickly explained. “It’s a security thing. Every few days we have to go through and destroy most of our serum, and the equipment that has traces of serum on it. And then every time we make a permanent change to the serum, or there’s a safety concern, all the traces of the old batches have to be destroyed, too. It’s time consuming and so expensive I don’t even wanna think about it, but it’s all being paid for by Uncle Sam. Plus, if it slows the Germans down…”

“I understand,” Delphine said, “This is one of those times?” 

“Yeah, I’m just tossing some old vials into the autoclave on the way out. If you’ve got any, I do have to ask for it.” 

“No, I am just doing some reading for now. But thank you for checking,” Delphine added, smiling warmly.

“No, I mean, yeah, of course,” Cosima sputtered, deciding a strategic retreat would be best before she embarrassed herself further. “Have a good night.” 

“I will see you tomorrow, Cosima,” Delphine called. Cosima waved, a quick wiggle of fingers, before slipping out of the office, dumping the vials in the autoclave, and nearly breaking a heel on her run to catch her bus. 

_You’re being ridiculous,_ she chastised herself on the bus, noticing a silly grin pulling at her cheeks for the third time in the short ride. _You’ve known this girl 24 hours. This straight girl. This girl with amazing curls, a stunning smile, this girl who gets science--_

_\--This girl you need to stop thinking about, because Felix can tell whenever anyone’s been thinking about anyone else, and will tease you mercilessly,_ she added to her thoughts as the bus pulled up to her stop and she jumped off, shouting a quick thank-you to the driver. 

“Well, look who’s decided to show up. No point in trying to be fashionably late around your own family, love, we all know who you really are.” 

“Hello, Mrs. S,” Cosima chirped in response, locking the door behind her. Her foster mother was smiling, so she clearly wasn’t actually upset. It took a lot to actually upset the older Irish woman though--Cosima had never actually seen the woman cry or yell, and according to Sarah, who’d lived with her longest, the last person to actually make Mrs. S do any of those things was now dead. 

Whether or not Mrs. S was responsible for said death was up to debate.

“The bus was late,” Cosima said quickly as she hung her coat up.

“Mmhm. I’m sure your dawdling had nothing to do with it. Go, help Tony set the table,” Mrs. S added, cutting off Cosima’s objection before it had even fully formed. “Alison and her husband are visiting tonight, so be sure to leave them places as well.” 

Cosima was unceremoniously shooed into the living-turned-dining room, where she was greeted with a snaggle-toothed grin and an armful of plates.

“Welcome home, lil’ sis. Wanna take over dish duty?” 

“No,” Cosima laughed, shoving the plates back at her newest brother. “And I’m only two days younger than you, ass.” 

“Ouch. Little sister’s got _teeth.”_ Tony grinned unrepentantly, shoving the plates right back at Cosima and dodging away to get cutlery before she could retaliate. 

She didn’t really _get_ Tony, not the way she got Sarah and Felix and even uptight sister Alison. It wasn’t the fact that he had breasts and hips that Cosima would kill for and insisted that he was male--she’d met plenty of people like that in queer bars, and as far as she was concerned, a guy was a guy if he said he was, anatomy be damned--it was the fact that he was brash and poked at everyone’s buttons while managing to keep everything personal hidden. She could at least read all the other siblings, but Tony still managed to be a closed book after six months of living with them. 

He was the most fun to get drunk with, however, and she loved him for that. 

“Come on, Cos, Alison’ll be here any minute and you know that the sight of an unset table’ll send her into fits,” Sarah interrupted, shouldering past Cosima with a plate of baked ham. “An’ get your fingers off the food, Helena!” 

“Is just a small nibble,” Helena grumped from behind her twin, quietly lowering her handful of mashed potatoes back into the bowl. 

“You can’t just put it back now that you’ve touched it! Here, just…” Sarah took the bowl of potatoes from Helena and put it on the table. “Keep those potatoes, just don’t take any more, yeah?” 

“Sarah is mad at me,” Helena said as Sarah returned to the kitchen, looking sadly at the mashed potatoes in her palm. “But I am _hungry.”_

“She’s not mad,” Cosima reassured Helena quickly, the hopeful look on the other woman’s face nearly breaking Cosima’s heart. “She’s just a little stressed. Family dinners are never really relaxing like they should be.” 

“But I did something wrong. I was only hungry,” Helena objected again, her conflict over the mashed potatoes not stopping her from licking them off her hand. “And there was food.” 

“Helena,” Cosima said gently, waiting until Helena was looking at her. “You know that there’s always going to be food here for you, right?” 

Mrs S. had appeared with Helena two years ago after an unexpected trip to Ukraine--Cosima had been the one to open the door, and will never forget the moment she looked out the door and seen Sarah’s face staring at her, suspicious and feral with frizzy blonde hair. Sarah had run away for almost two weeks straight, after raging at S for never telling her that she’d had a twin sister and not looking at Helena at all. Helena still hadn’t said anything about where she was or what she’d been through, but based on the way she always worried about when she’d get food and the scars sometimes visible when she changed (not to mention her total lack of social graces) it was clear to everyone that whatever had happened in Ukraine, it wasn’t good.

“Of course,” Helena said, not looking Cosima in the eye. “Sarah says so.” 

“Nobody’s going to get mad at you for worrying about food,” Cosima continued determinedly, “But nobody will take food from you. And it will always be there for you. Got it?” 

“Yes, Cosima,” Helena murmured, sounding more like she was agreeing to please Cosima rather than because she actually agreed. 

“Okay.” Helena shuffled off toward the kitchen, where Sarah had disappeared to, still sucking potatoes off of her fingers. 

“You’re good to her.” 

“You need to get a bell,” Cosima replied, not even looking at Tony as she began laying out plates on the table. “And she needs someone to be good to her. She doesn’t talk about it, but the world wasn’t very nice to her.” 

“Even I picked up on that one, sister.” Tony stared at the plates and cutlery in his hands for a few moments before glancing back up. “Do you think Alison will really notice if the knives are on the wrong side?” 

“Have you met the woman?” 

As they both snorted in laughter, the sound of a door opening and a high voice exchanging greetings with Mrs. Sadler filled the air and cut their laughter short. A few moments later, sister Alison, the only one of the family to get married, entered the room with her husband, Donnie, behind her.

“Cosima! You look well,” Alison said eagerly, happily embracing Cosima. Cosima returned the hug, flicking at the other woman’s straight-across bangs. “And you’ve not even set the table yet? Here, give me those--oh, Donnie, just sit in the corner and stay out of the way. Tony, the knives go on the right side of the plate, give it to me.” 

“It’s good to see you too, Alison,” Cosima laughed. Sarah and Felix walked laughing into the room next, Helena a quiet blonde shadow behind them. Tony kept laying the knives on the left side of the plates, just to irritate Alison, and Cosima followed, quietly switching around the forks and plates, just waiting to see if Alison would notice. 

“Oi, all of you, sit down and shut your gobs! Anyone who’s talking doesn’t get fed!” Mrs. S interrupted, all of her grown children of mismatched heritage immediately quieting and sitting, tossing teasing looks and flicking peas at each other when they thought Mrs. S wasn’t looking. 

Mrs. S saw everything of course, including Cosima slipping Helena extra slices of ham under the table, she simply chose to smile instead of scold.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Delphine,” Howard called across the lab. “It’s after seven. Time to get going.”

“Of course,” she said, straightening out the few files she still had open. “I only wanted to catch up on what I’ve missed these past months.” 

“I admire your work ethic Delphine, you know that.” Howard crossed the room to behind where Delphine sat, placing his hands on her shoulders and rubbing gently. Delphine stiffened for an instant, then forced herself to relax into Howard’s touch, sighing gently even as she stared unblinkingly ahead.

_“There are other things I admire about you, however,”_ he murmured softly in French, pressing a small kiss to Delphine’s throat.

Delphine closed her eyes and inhaled deeply before smiling and leaning back, tilting her head back to look up at Howard.

_“Your place or mine?”_ she murmured softly, and he chuckled.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was day six of working with Delphine (not counting the weekends when they didn’t see each other), and Delphine’s turn to pay for lunch, and Cosima was certain that she was going insane.

“Cosima, are you listening?” 

“Of course,” Cosima said brightly, before hesitating. “Except not at all, actually, sorry. What were you saying?” 

Delphine laughed, a bright, shimmering sound, and a small part of Cosima wished the laugh sounded like anything else--some sort of ugly snort, or a hacking laugh--so something would be imperfect about her. 

The larger part of Cosima simply basked in the sound.

“I was saying how impressed I was with the results of the last serum test. I think we have managed to avoid the, ah, most unfortunate side effect.” 

“You mean the one where the skin starts ripping off and the bottom epithelial layer has hardened into a sort of red exoskeleton?” 

“Yes, that.” Delphine grinned as Cosima mimed ripping her face off. “More of an aesthetic concern than anything, really, but I am glad we took care of it.” 

“We? That was all you, Delphine. That idea of just counteracting it by reducing the ratio of chemicals--”

“It was a simple solution,” Delphine countered quickly, looking down at her mug of coffee. 

“And an ingenious one! Seriously, who could’ve thought of that? Other than you, obviously.” 

“I was just looking at the effects of a few of the hormone stimulators, and realized a few of them were working as a form of positive feedback.”

“And then put the pieces together and found a feasible substitute, it’s genius!” 

“But what about you? Your Vita-Rays and the most recent work with the immune system, it’s incredible--”

“Yeah, but we’re still working out the kinks with white blood cell production--don’t want to create a super-soldier with cancer, do we?” 

“Regarding that, have you tried--”

They both fell silent as a waitress came by to refill Cosima’s tea, giving both of them an odd look. They smiled awkwardly at her, then looked at each other and giggled like scolded schoolchildren. 

“We should probably not talk about this in public,” Cosima laughed, and Delphine chuckled along with her. 

“I’m sorry, I was so caught up in it--” 

“No, no, totally my fault.” 

“It is just...so nice, you know?” Delphine’s smile was smaller now, like it was afraid to be on her face, and seemed to soften all the angles of her face. “To have someone who understands. The science...and me.” 

Delphine looked up at Cosima through her eyelashes, and Cosima reached across the table to take Delphine’s hand. 

_If I were a man, I could kiss her now._

The unfairness of it, not for the first time, surges through Cosima, even as she laces her fingers through Delphine’s. 

“Yeah its...it’s the same for me. Obviously.” 

“I’m so glad I’ve met you, Cosima.” 

Cosima glanced up and met Delphine’s eyes, and Cosima would later swear, up and down, that she felt something pass between them in that moment--something invisible but palpable, something that would change the both of them forever.

“Come,” Delphine said suddenly and brightly, pulling Cosima out of the booth and to her feet. “You wouldn’t want to be late to the lab again, would you? I will race you.” 

And with that, and a press of her lips to Cosima’s cheek that was so brief Cosima nearly missed it, Delphine was gone. 

Cosima stood in the middle of the restaurant, fingers pressed to the spot Delphine had kissed.

“Yup,” she choked, clearing her throat. “This is going to drive me insane.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for the response this story's gotten so far! I really appreciate each and every one of you :) 
> 
> Comments, questions, or criticism are totally encouraged. Hit me up below, or on tumblr at probablytatiana, and while you're there check out the blogs of the two other people who made this possible, Chaya at zeeziegallifrey and Noelle at lesbianchristmasangel.


	3. Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for: Discussions of period-typical homophobia, the use of the word "queer," and hand-wavey science explanations.

“Cosima,” Delphine called, her voice breaking through Cosima’s haze of frustration. “You said there was something you would like my opinion, earlier?” 

“Yeah, it’s actually the same problem I’m still working on,” Cosima explained, coughing for a moment before turning around to face Delphine. “It’s these stupid sarcomeres. I’m trying to increase the density of the actin and myosin fibers, to increase muscle strength?”

“Mmhm,” Delphine murmured, leaning closer to look at the files. “May I look at the slides?”

“Yeah, of course,” Cosima said, shifting to the side so Delphine could look down the microscope eyepiece. Delphine’s hands carefully gripped the tube connecting the lens to the microscope body, and that, plus the delicate curve of Delphine’s legs, had Cosima’s thoughts drifting away from a hypothetical super soldier’s muscles and onto another path entirely. 

“You are trying to increase the density by injecting additional fibers?”

“It works sometimes--they should be compatible, and the plan is to inject them directly into the main muscle groups--they should _take,_ they just--” 

“I think you are trying to control too much,” Delphine said gently, leaning away from the microscope and quietly paging through the files. “All these calculations, optimum amounts? You cannot be this precise always.” 

“It is the easiest way,” Cosima pointed out, rubbing her forehead where the eyepiece had dug in after hours of glaring down the microscope. 

“Mm. Easiest and simplest--but it is not working, is it?” Delphine flicked through the files again. “Have you tried hormone and growth stimulants instead?”

“No, there’s so many potential complications--” 

“But so much potential gain,” Delphine murmured softly. “It is less precise, more uncertain, more faith in the body and less in the science, yes? But sometimes that is how it works best. A little letting go of control and plan. A little faith, instead.” 

_And if that isn’t a metaphor,_ Cosima thought, looking up and meeting Delphine’s warm, whiskey colored eyes, _I don’t know what it is._

“Yeah,” she said, a little breathlessly, “I get what you mean.” 

“Are you feeling all right?” 

“Hm? Oh, yeah, I’m fine. Just a cold, I’ve been fighting it a few days.” As if on cue, she coughed and then shrugged. “It’s nothing. But I’ll take your advice. Here’s hoping it works.” 

“Here is to hoping.” Delphine smiled. Cosima grinned back.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Cosima groaned, half-falling into her bed and burying her face in her hands.

“Oh no,” Sarah said, taking one look at Cosima’s face and rising to leave. “I know that look. That is your love troubles look. I am not dealing with that.” 

“Shut the hell up,” Cosima moaned into her pillow. 

“What’s your beef, then?” 

“I’m tired,” Cosima snapped. “Far too tired to deal with you.” 

“What crawled up your arse and died?” 

“You,” Cosima mumbled, too tired to put much heat into her words. 

“You do realize that snapping at me will do nothing for you, flat-head?” 

“Yeah, but you make it so easy,” Cosima replied, coughing into her elbow before turning to face Sarah. “Sorry.” 

Sarah shook her head, dismissing the apology but still crossing the room toward the door.

“I know the way you get when you’re sick and tired, Cos. Doesn’t mean I want to deal with your sappy moaning for hours on end.” 

“I don’t moan. At least not for hours.” 

“I bet Frenchie could help you out with that,” a British voice interrupted, and Cosima groaned again at the intrusion. 

“Were you listening outside the door, Felix?” 

“It’s a small house, darling, and your voice carries. Besides, I’m always called toward a good innuendo.” 

“You’re all terrible,” Cosima replied, turning her face back into the pillow. 

“Yes, darling, but you love us.” Felix draped himself across the end of Cosima’s bed, “Now come on, tell Felix all your woes.” 

“Is there any point? You’re only going to tell me what you always do.” 

“Well maybe we’ll stop telling you when you start listening.” Sarah’s voice was harsher than before, and Cosima was quickly going from upset over not knowing what to do about Delphine to irritated with her siblings.

“Because you have such good taste, don’t you?” 

“Oi!” It was Felix who objected, rising to his feet in a fluid movement. Sarah was silent, her face suddenly closed off and eyes hard. “Out of line, science monkey.” 

Cosima sighed, biting her lip as she sat up and looked across the room at Sarah.

“Sarah, look--” 

“Save it, Cos.” Sarah stood, less smoothly than Felix had and smoothing her skirt over the small swelling of her stomach. 

“Sarah, I didn’t--where are you going?” 

“Just save it.” Sarah marched out of the room without another word, and Felix followed after a moment of hesitation. Cosima watched them go, then dropped her head into her hands with a long sigh.

The sigh caught in her throat and turned to a cough, and then another, and Cosima leaned back until her head hit the wall, sucking in ragged breaths until her breathing evened out.

“Chicken?” 

Cosima looked up to see Mrs. S standing in the doorway, a concerned look on her face.

“You all right? I heard yelling and coughing--both you and Sarah have quite the tempers when pushed. You’re so alike, and you know they say your worst arguments are with yourself.”

“Why did you take me in?” 

“Pardon?” It was clearly not what Mrs. S had expected to be asked, but Cosima pressed forward anyway. 

“Why did you do it? You didn’t have to. You didn’t have to keep me.” 

“Where’s all this come from?” Mrs. S sat down on the foot of Cosima’s bed. “Did something happen, love?”

“You know what I am,” Cosima insisted. “You keep me anyway, I don’t understand.”

“What you are is human,” Mrs. S replied, “And my daughter, or as good as.”

“And a queer--”

“I don’t care.” 

“Why don’t you?” Cosima ran an angry hand through her hair, hissing when her fingers caught in a tangle. “Everyone else does--it’s shameful or it’s wrong, so _I’m_ shameful or wrong, and I just..” Anger gone, Cosima sighed. “I’m _tired.”_

“Oh chicken, come here.” Mrs. S wrapped an arm around Cosima, pulling her closer. Cosima hesitated a moment, then laid her head on her foster mother’s shoulder. “The only thing wrong is the way society treats you. They’re the ones that ought to be ashamed, not you. Felix and Sarah are just trying to look out for you--and quite mucking up their delivery, I’ll agree with you on that, love. But your record is not exactly spotless when it comes to trying to give them advice, is it?” 

Cosima snorted, thinking of the countless fights she and Sarah had gotten into over some piece of advice that offended the other, or blaming each other for advice that didn’t work out.

“The important thing is that you’re all trying to support each other. You love each other, even if you all put your feet in your mouths trying to show it.” Cosima couldn’t help snorting at that, and Mrs. S chuckled along with her. “Right, and you’re going to apologize to Sarah when she gets back for whatever comment you made.” 

“Yes ma’am.” 

“Now I’d better go see if I can catch that girl before she gets herself and her brother arrested again, or just scrape together some bail money.” 

“She was pretty upset--I might grab the bail first.” 

“Right.” Mrs. S got up to leave, before pausing in the doorway. “Tell me all about the girl when I get back, love.” 

“Who says there’s a girl?” 

“I wasn’t born yesterday, chicken. There’s always a girl.”

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Delphine fumbled in her purse for several moments before finding her keys and unlocking the door to the mansion she’d called home for the past eight months.

In the earlier days, she’d always felt an urge to call out some sort of greeting when she entered. Now she simply ignored the feeling, locking the door behind her and slipping out of her coat. 

The house was silent, save for the sound of her footsteps, as Delphine walked into the kitchen and began fixing dinner. The clatter of ladle against pot as she stirred her soup seemed to echo through the house. 

It bothered her, and she wasn’t sure why. 

Delphine prided herself on being good at being alone, or at least used to it. There was no reason for her to now, suddenly, find being alone in a mansion suddenly unbearable. There were far, far worse things. She'd seen far worse things.

But she couldn't stand it, and the reason had black cateye glasses and was called Cosima.

Cosima, who was so eager to talk about science that the energy spilled over into her hands and motions, so easy to grin and to laugh and nothing like Delphine had ever seen. 

Cosima was... _sparkling._ It was the only way Delphine could think of describing the other woman, with her warm brown eyes and happiness that seemed to shine from her. The brightness that drew Delphine toward her, slowly but surely. 

It didn’t make sense. If it were a man, perhaps, if it was Stark that she felt this draw toward, she might understand it--she could liken it to the fairy tales she vaguely remembered from her childhood, her mother’s voice full of sweet tales of love at first sight and happily ever afters. 

But those tales were all of a prince and princess, or a maid and a knight, always a man and a woman in love. 

Cosima was a woman--undeniably a woman, even under the shapeless form of a lab coat--and she didn’t know what to do with that. 

She finished her soup instead, and ate a quiet meal in an empty house. 

When she was finished, and before her thoughts returned to focusing on the enigma that was Cosima Niehaus, she made a call. 

_“This is Howard Stark.”_

_“Bonsoir, Howard,”_ she said, emphasizing her French accent as it caressed the words. _“Êtes-vous occupé?”_

_“Pour tu? Jamais.”_

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Bonjour, Cosima.” 

“Oh, hey,” Cosima said, already grinning as she turned to face Delphine. “Good weekend?” 

“It was uneventful,” Delphine replied, settling into the station next to Cosima’s. 

“I would give anything for an uneventful weekend,” Cosima sighed, fiddling with a pipette. 

“Did something happen?” 

“Yeah,” Cosima sighed. “One of my sisters got arrested.” 

“What?” Delphine’s eyes were wide with concern. “What happened? Is she all right?” 

“Hm? Oh, yeah, she’s fine. It’s not the first time it’s happened.” Seeing that that did nothing to ease the blonde’s worries, Cosima tried to explain. “She’s my sister Helena. She’s...well, she’s been through some stuff. Has a few issues, and is absolute crap at any sort of diplomacy. There was a barfight, she got arrested. No big, really, she got out. Legally,” she added when Delphine still looked concerned. 

“I see.” 

“Her twin sister, Sarah, was actually out trying to get arrested. It’s sort of her way of blowing off steam. We sort of had a fight last week, and she needs a few days and fights to really get it out of her system.” 

“What did you fight about?” 

“What? Oh, um, nothing really. Just stupid sibling stuff, you know? But it doesn’t really matter, she didn’t get arrested anyway. Nobody would fight a pregnant woman.” 

“...I see. Your family seems very interesting.” That sort of comment was usually a thinly veiled criticism, but when Cosima looked, she saw no judgement in Delphine’s eyes. Instead there was amusement, with what looked like something sadder underneath--but then Delphine blinked, and it was gone. 

“‘Interesting’ is one one word for it,” Cosima laughed. “You should come over for dinner sometime. They’d all love to meet you.” 

“I wouldn’t want to intrude…” 

“You wouldn’t be. Honestly, I’m not joking when I say they’d like to meet you. My foster mother is basically insisting.” As soon as Mrs. S had found out about Delphine, she’d insisted on meeting the blonde-- _whether it’s as a friend or something more, love, she’s important to you, and that means she’s got to meet us_ \--and it was not an easy thing to say no to Mrs. S. “Besides, I don’t know what you do whenever you’re not here--you’re not married, right?” 

“No, no,” Delphine said quickly, “I am, um, how do you Americans put it? Unique?” 

“Do you mean single?”

“Yes, that’s it. I am single.” 

“No boyfriend in France or anything?” 

“No, nothing like that.” Delphine’s tone was casual. “I was never much one for dating.” 

“Oh, right.” Something like hope poked its way into Cosima’s chest. 

“We should work,” Delphine whispered, though she was smiling. “Mr. Stark and Dr. Erskine are leaving early today, we will have to pick up their slack. Maybe if we make some huge discovery while they are out, the lab techs who wander in will stop asking us to make them coffee, hm?” 

Project Rebirth was an extremely secretive project, with a very select few working on it. The grunt work that needed doing was done by techs who were never told the full scope of the project they were working on. In short, the lab in which Cosima and Delphine worked was never full of techs or interns, but generally just those leading scientists--Stark, Erskine, and Cosima and Delphine. With the two male scientists gone, it would just be Cosima and Delphine.

Alone.

_Well,_ Cosima thought, _that won’t be distracting at all._

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Delphine! _Delphine!”_

“Cosima?” Delphine hurried across the lab, nearly dropping the files she’d stepped out to get. “Is something wrong?” 

“Come here,” Cosima said instead, practically vibrating with excitement as she waited for Delphine to come over to the microscope. “Here, look at this. It’s a sample of muscle tissue from the old method we were using to promote muscle growth--you know, direct injection of fibers?” 

“Yes,” Delphine said, squinting down the microscope at the twisted and tangled actin and myosin fibers--the muscle was stronger, yes, but disorganized, and risked ripping itself apart. “But what--” 

“Now look at this one.” Cosima swapped out the older slide for a new one, watching Delphine’s face for any reaction. She could see the moment Delphine realized what she was looking at--the way that Delphine’s eyes suddenly widened, and she leaned into the microscope, shifting the slide around the base to get a better look. 

“Cosima,” Delphine breathed, a disbelieving smile growing on her face to match Cosima’s wide grin. “Cosima, is this…?” 

“A slide of muscle cells from a mouse injected with the latest test version of the serum. Modified according to your suggestions.” Cosima didn’t even try to keep the joy out of her voice now. “With 150% increase of strength and density, and no twisting of the fibers.” 

“It’s more than no twisting, Cosima, these sarcomeres are _perfect._ And no signs of abnormal growth, or cancers, or…?” 

“None.” Delphine looked up from the microscope at last and into Cosima’s eyes, her own whiskey-colored eyes shining with awe and fascination. Her entire face was alight with wonder, and Cosima knew in that instant that she’d never see anything more beautiful. 

So she kissed her.

It wasn’t at the best angle, Delphine still half-bent over the microscope, and Cosima much shorter than her even in heels, but it was soft, and sweet, noses bumping gently, Cosima’s hand reaching up to caress Delphine’s neck, Delphine’s hands cupping Cosima’s cheek, Delphine still tasted like the cafe au lait she’d had with lunch, and Cosima hated coffee but she could get used to tasting it on Delphine’s lips--

\--and then Delphine was pulling away, pushing Cosima back, and Cosima felt a heavy weight settle in her stomach. 

“Delphine?” 

“I-I’m sorry,” Delphine said, glancing away from Cosima as she reach for her bag. “I have to go.” 

“Did I just…” Cosima swallowed nervously, watching Delphine prepare to leave and refusing to meet her eyes. “Delphine, did I just make a huge mistake?” 

“I will, um, I will see you, Cosima.” 

“Wait--” 

But Delphine was gone, and Cosima was alone in the lab, lips still tasting like coffee and milk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To say my knowledge of muscle structure is limited would be putting it kindly. If the "science" in this chapter was totally unclear, or anyone more knowledgeable has corrections, feel free to let me know :)
> 
> Also, there is an official chapter count now! The full draft of this fic has been finished, and it'll be 23 chapters plus a "post-credits" scene a la Marvel movies. It's the longest thing I've ever written, and I'm so excited to share it with all of you.
> 
> Massive thanks to Noelle, Chaya, and you of course, for reading! <3


	4. Four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for: Discussion of a not-super-healthy relationship and casual use of the word "queer."

Delphine didn’t come to work the next day, and Cosima steadfastly pretended she wasn’t constantly glancing at the door, hoping to see Delphine walking in. 

She also ignored Stark’s glances, which seemed a little too knowing and smug for his own good.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Delphine was startled by a sharp knock on her door that evening, nearly dropping the wine glass she was holding. Cautiously, reaching for the gun she kept in a drawer near the door, she inched down the front hallway.

“Hello?” 

“It’s only me.” Howard Stark’s voice rang out clearly in the still night, and Delphine sighed in relief, stowing the gun and unlocking the door. 

“I was not expecting you,” she explained, showing him in. “You’ll have to turn the lights on if you’d like to sit in the living room. Has something happened?” 

“You could say that. And the dining room’s fine.” He followed Delphine into the already-lit room, but refused to sit, instead pulling out a small envelope and setting it on the table. 

“What’s this?” 

“I have a security camera set up in the lab,” Howard explained, gesturing for Delphine to open the envelope. “It takes photos, one every thirty seconds. I’m working on a way of compacting movie cameras and taking video, but for now this works fine. It captured some interesting images yesterday, when Erskine and I were out.” 

Delphine’s breath caught as she looked through the photos--most were innocuous, she and Cosima working or looking down a microscope--but at the bottom of the pile there was a photo, grainy as it was, that clearly showed Cosima’s lips pressed to hers. 

“Howard--” 

“Clearly, we need to take another look at this partnership you and I have worked out.” 

“Are you going to send me back?” Delphine’s question was soft and without inflection, as if already resigned to her fate. Her hands were clenched, one still holding the corner of the damning photograph. 

“What?” Howard blinked once, then reached forward and laid one of his hands over one of Delphine’s fists, taking a seat so they could look each other in the eye. “No, Delphine, _no._ Look, I may be an ass and a war profiteer, but _God_ no. I know what’s happening--what happened over there, I wouldn’t put you in that position.” 

“Then...are you going to report us? I don’t understand,” Delphine said, confusion turning to frustration. 

“No, no. God, I need to work on my public relations if this is what people think when I show up at their houses at night. What I’m trying to say, if you’ll let me finish,” Howard continued, “Is that we should stop sleeping together.” 

“What?” Delphine’s brows furrowed as she tried to find what Howard was getting at. “Am I not…” 

“Oh, believe me, you’re pleasing,” Howard said, making the phrase rather impressively lewd as he said it. “But you weren’t brought to America as a prostitute, Delphine, you were brought because you’re brilliant, with a lot of motive and means to help with things like Project Rebirth. You’ve done that and more--you’ve earned this house, I didn’t just give it to you. Or did you think I gave mansions to all my friends?” 

“I never know with you, Howard,” Delphine replied, starting to relax. 

“Well, I’ll have you know my friends have to earn their mansions, the same as everyone else,” he sniffed proudly. “Besides, Niehaus is a good person. She’s got a lot of fire. I don’t want a little thing like our mutually beneficial arrangement to get in the way of you two.” 

“Howard…” Delphine bit her lip before continuing. “I don’t even know if I’m queer. I like men.” 

“So do I.” He shrugged as if it was no big deal. 

“But..you sleep with so many women.” 

“Liking one doesn’t mean I don’t like the other,” he said, patting Delphine’s hand reassuringly. “The world won’t end. You’ll figure it out. Besides, I’ve had to watch the two of you make eyes at each other across my lab--you definitely like Cosima.” 

“You’re certain you’re all right with ending our arrangement?” Delphine asked once more, looking down at the photo. Cosima’s eyes were closed, her hand on Delphine’s neck, and Delphine’s eyes were open--with shock? With something else?

“Please,” Howard scoffed. “Do you have any idea how emasculating it is to sleep with a woman who’s clearly in love with another woman?” 

“Howard,” Delphine half-scolded, both of them relaxed now. 

“Have you got any more of that wine?” 

“You are incorrigible,” she replied, pouring him a glass.

“I don’t know if I can love her,” Delphine admitted softly, once they were both drinking. “And I don’t know what to do.” 

“You’ll figure it out,” he said with an easy confidence she envied.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Delphine wasn’t at work the next day either.

Cosima very firmly maintained that she wasn’t bothered, or worried, or anything of the sort. She was, however, ready to look up Delphine’s address and go check on her if she missed one more day. 

Howard kept giving her knowing looks that both irritated and confused her, her cold still hadn’t gone away, and by sundown she was ready to just fall into bed and sleep.

So of course that was when Felix knocked on her door. 

“Seriously, Felix?” she asked when she pulled open the door. “I’m exhausted. And this is maybe the one night I get up here before Sarah or Helena.” 

“Sorry Cos,” he said, clearly not sorry at all. “But there’s someone here to see you. I think she said she was called Delphine?” 

Cosima blinked, staring at Felix for a long moment. 

“Delphine’s here? Willingly?” 

“Blonde, French? About yea high?” he asked, raising a hand over Cosima’s head. “She’s here--and Sarah’s giving her the stink eye, and Helena’s copying Sarah, so you might want want to get down there quick before there’s nothing left of her.” 

“Thanks, Felix,” she said quickly, trying to rush past him, when her cold made it clear that that wasn’t a good idea.

“Are you alright?” he asked cautiously, watching her press a hand to her mouth to try and muffle the sound of her coughs. 

“Fine,” she said quickly, taking a few deep breaths to steady herself. “It’s just a cold.” 

“Yeah?” he asked skeptically. 

“Yeah, don’t worry about it.” She grinned at him, which seemed to placate him somewhat. “Come on, I can’t keep her waiting. Sarah’s going to kill her or scare her off if we leave them down there much longer.” 

Delphine was still standing outside when Cosima got down to the doorway, Sarah and Helena both standing off to the side and glaring at her, just as Felix had said. Delphine kept glancing at them and then away, as if worried they would spring at her. 

Considering Helena’s history with bar fights, it was a fairly valid concern. 

“Delphine?” Delphine looked up, a small smile growing on her face. “What is it? Did something happen at the lab?” 

“No,” Delphine said, “But I was hoping I could speak with you?” 

“Yeah, of course,” Cosima said, stepping back to let Delphine in--then, looking at where Sarah and Helena were standing like sentries, added “Actually, why don’t we talk outside.” 

“Outside?” Delphine followed Cosima readily enough, eager to get away from the twin stares of the twins, but looked a bit lost once Cosima closed the door to the apartment behind her. “But isn’t it unsafe at night?” 

“The streets, yeah. We’re not going there, though.” 

“Then where…?” 

Cosima grabbed her coat and walked to a door at the end of the hallway marked ‘emergencies only’, pulling it open with an impressive bang that was sure to annoy the neighbors. 

“We’re going to the roof.”

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Are we allowed to be up here?”

“Not really.” Though it was late April, the night was still cool, and both women held their coats tightly around them as a gust of wind blew. “But it’s the only private place around here. The neighbors are all vicious gossips, and my siblings are worse.” 

“I see,” Delphine said, carefully sitting on the rooftop. She’d stopped meeting Cosima’s eyes once they’d left Mrs. S’s apartment, and Cosima had begun feeling nervous herself. Initially she’d managed to ignore her nerves in favor of surprise at seeing Delphine, then on impressing the blonde, but now there was nothing but Delphine and herself.

“So listen,” she blurted, before Delphine could start speaking, looking at the rooftop surface rather than the blonde. “I’m, uh, pretty sure I know what you want to talk about, and I just wanted to say that I’m sorr--” 

“I don’t want you to apologize,” Delphine said quickly. “It’s not--I don’t know what I want, but I can’t stop thinking about that kiss.” 

“Oh.” Cosima fiddled with a button on her coat for a moment, before tossing a nervous glance at Delphine. “Is that...is that in a good way?” 

“I don’t know,” Delphine admitted, eyes darting to Cosima and away. “I never really...I never thought about women, you know? They were...it was never an option. But I know I like men. But I also...I also like you, Cosima.” 

“....As a friend?” 

“No,” Delphine said, looking directly into Cosima’s eyes at last. “I don’t think so.” 

“That’s…” Cosima reached up to shove a lock of her wild hair behind her ear, a tiny, disbelieving smile on her face. “That’s...good.” 

Delphine reached out and gently cupped Cosima’s face in her hands, but instead of pushing her away as she’d done in the lab, she pulled Cosima closer, until their noses were brushing and foreheads bumping. 

“Is this…?” 

“Yeah,” Cosima whispered, breathing quickening slightly as Delphine’s thumb brushed Cosima’s lower lip. “Yeah, it’s good.” 

Then Delphine leaned in and Cosima shut her eyes automatically as she felt the soft press of smooth lips against her own. 

The night was cold, and Brooklyn was never the best-smelling place, but Delphine was warm and smelled of roses and red wine, something fancy and French, and Cosima deepened the kiss, wrapping her arms around Delphine’s waist and pulling her closer. Delphine gasped, and Cosima began to pull away, afraid she’d gone too far, but Delphine pulled her back, responding in kind. Cosima did pull away, eventually, however, with a breathless laugh. 

“Delphine,” she gasped, “Delphine, I need to breathe.” 

“How inconvenient,” Delphine giggled, the sound something warm and welcoming. “We should fix this breathing problem with the serum.” 

“Mm, I’m sure Stark will make it top priority.” 

“Oh, yes,” Delphine agreed, bringing their foreheads to rest against each other. “The very top.” 

“You taste like wine,” Cosima murmured, leaning into Delphine’s hand that remained on her cheek, the other having slipped to rest on Cosima’s shoulder.

“A little, ah, _courage liquide,”_ Delphine explained. “You taste like strawberries.” 

“Yeah, that was just, uh, jam from last summer with desert.”

_“Fraises d'été.”_ Delphine smiled and pressed a quick peck to Cosima’s lips. Cosima watched, fascinated, as Delphine’s tongue flicked over her own lips, an exaggerated expression of concentration on her face. “Yes, definitely, summer strawberries.” 

“It sounds so much better when you say it,” Cosima said, shifting so she could rest her head against the taller woman’s shoulder. Delphine reacted automatically, wrapping an arm around Cosima’s shoulders so Cosima could sit comfortably. 

“This isn’t the first time, is it?” 

“What?” Cosima feels, rather than sees, Delphine stiffen, her hand tightening the slightest bit over Cosima’s bicep. 

“The kissing thing, I mean,” she hurries to explain. “You seem like you know what you’re doing, that’s all. If it was your first time, I’m going to be incredibly jealous, because my first kiss was on a dare and in an alleyway that stunk like death, and I bit the guy’s tongue.” 

“No,” Delphine said, “The first with a woman, I mean. But not...the first.” 

“Hey--Hey, Delphine, you’re shaking,” Cosima said suddenly, straightening up to look at the blonde. “Jeeze, no wonder, it’s freezing up here--take my coat--” 

“No, no,” Delphine said quickly, gently pushing away Cosima’s hands as she tried to take off her coat. “If you take off your coat, you will be cold, and ill.” 

“You’ve got a point,” Cosima sighed, feeling the tightness in her chest that had become a constant companion along with her cold. “I’d invite you in, but the place is literally overflowing with people, and I don’t want to scare you off yet.” 

“I should go, in any case,” Delphine said, standing and offering Cosima a hand to help her up as well. “I didn’t mean to keep you so long.” 

“Hey, I wasn’t complaining,” Cosima said, taking Delphine’s hand and interlacing their fingers as Delphine helped her up. “But I wouldn’t want you to get sick and miss any more work just because you were humoring my love of rooftops. You, uh, are coming to work tomorrow, yeah?” 

“Yes, of course.” Cosima led Delphine back down the flight of emergency stairs to in front of Mrs. S’s, behind which she knew her siblings would be listening. “I will see you there.” 

“Yeah, of course,” Cosima said eagerly. 

Delphine glanced around the deserted hallway before leaning forward and pressing two light kisses to Cosima’s cheeks, one on either side. 

“Goodnight, Cosima.”

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Niehaus! Cough one more time and I am sending you home.”

“Yes sir,” Cosima muttered, sniffling a bit as she turned back to her slides. “I’ll do my best to control my involuntary bodily functions, sir.” 

“I’m serious.” Howard Stark walked over, first squinting at the samples and then at Cosima. “Can’t lose these samples to something like a rhinovirus dropped by a careless scientist. And I can’t lose a scientist because they’re too stubborn to take a sick day.” 

“I’m fine,” Cosima insisted. “Really,” she added, seeing both Delphine and Howard’s skeptical looks. “It’s a cold. It’ll go away.”

“If you say so,” Howard replied, clearly unconvinced. “You’re just like Cormier, you know. Never takes a day off unless she absolutely has to, in all the months I’ve worked with her.” 

“Months?” Cosima glanced between Howard and Delphine. “But you just transferred onto the project.” 

“I have been working with Stark Industries for a while now, it was only recently that he decided my talents would be better used on this Project--and he was able to convince the congressmen that it was all right to have a foreigner working on it.” Delphine did look apologetic as she added, “I thought it was common knowledge.” 

“Well it is now,” Howard said, making a few notes regarding Cosima’s test batch of serum before walking off to somewhere in the bowels of the lab. Nobody was entirely sure what he did in those hidden parts, but with Erskine away, monitoring the recruiting stations for someone he found suitable, he spent most of his time hidden there.

He produced good results, so nobody really questioned it.

“I can imagine how long the approval took,” Cosima commented in the silence that descended. “There was about a week of debate when they found out Stark wanted me on the project and that my name was _Niehaus._ Plus three more days when they found out I was a woman.” 

“I can imagine,” Delphine chuckled. “Since I am French, they assumed I would be full of hatred of Nazis and were quick to allow me onboard--until they found out the D stood for Delphine, rather than Daniel.” 

“I totally prefer you to some guy named Daniel, anyway,” Cosima said, sliding closer to Delphine’s station to do her best attractive lean against the lab table. Delphine gave her a fondly exasperated look, but set aside the vials she was working with anyway. 

“Oh yes? And why is that?” 

“Well, think about it. Daniel is some sort of mathematics-loving smart-ass punk. Delphine is a badass, sexy doctor working on super-secret stuff that’s gonna make Hitler wet his pants.” 

“Sexy, hm?” Delphine had abandoned all work now, instead resting her elbow on the table and her head in her hand, watching Cosima amusedly. 

“Totally.” Cosima grinned so widely her canines showed, and Delphine found herself mirroring the expression. 

“Shall I tell you what I think of _Cosima?”_

“You could just show me.” 

“Ladies.” 

Both Cosima and Delphine jerked away from each other and stared, wide eyed, at Howard Stark. Cosima immediately turned away and pretended to be engrossed in a set of empty petri dishes, while Delphine turned as bright red as the blood samples she was meant to be analyzing.

“Did you, ah, need something, Howard?” 

“I needed to grab the analysis of the death of mouse 39c,” he said, looking between the two women. “And you two.” 

Cosima froze, ready to jump in and tear apart whatever illogical logic he was about to use to fire the both of them. 

“It is about damn time.” 

“What?” Cosima sputtered, turning to stare at Stark, who was smirking at both of them. 

“Niehaus, do you have any idea how long you two have been making eyes at each other across this lab? You two have been clearly clobbered for weeks.” 

“Clob--?” 

“Infatuated, Cormier. Erskine was all for locking the two of you in a supply closet until you two worked it out.” 

“We were not _that_ obvious--” 

“Oh yes you were and are,” Howard said quickly, cutting off Cosima’s objection. “And you’re not going to get fired for being queer. Just be careful with the bodily fluids.” 

_“Howard!”_ Delphine hissed, flushing an even deeper red. 

“Just saying. Control yourselves around the control groups,” he said, cackling at his own joke as he grabbed the report on the mouse who had unexpectedly died a few nights before. 

“You think you’re so clever,” Cosima muttered, still mortified. 

“Hey, my lab, my industries. I _know_ I’m so clever,” he retorted, waving to the both as he sauntered back into the private depths of his lab. In an entirely adult and mature manner, Cosima stuck her tongue out at him.

“I suppose he was bound to find out,” Delphine muttered. “I just did not intend for him to find out like that.” 

“At least he didn’t walk in ten minutes later.” 

Delphine’s blush, which had started to fade, flared back up to its full intensity.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you guys all enjoyed the mostly-fluff this week! This is just a reminder to check out the blogs of the two people who helped make this possible--Chaya (whose url is now therenegadegabbai) and Noelle (on tumblr at lesbianchristmasangel). 
> 
> Thank you guys all so much for reading and I hope you have a really fantastic day.


	5. Five

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for: Blood, illness and casual use of the word "queer."

Cosima sighed heavily as she waited at her bus stop, a sort of exhaustion that didn’t fit the warm spring Saturday Brooklyn was currently immersed in. Around her, children were playing, people were chatting, and all she wanted to do was go home and sleep.

She adjusted the bag of groceries in her right arm so it wasn’t digging into her elbow as much, looking around for a place to sit, and let out a tired huff when none appeared.

Her sigh caught in her throat and she gasped reflexively, pressing a hand to her mouth as she felt that breath catch as well and then she was coughing, her entire body seizing in panic as she stopped getting enough air, vaguely aware of the sound of cans clattering to the pavement and the chatter around her ceasing as she tried to _breathe dammit breathe--_

Then it stopped, all at once, and Cosima nearly fell to the ground in relief, sucking in ragged gulps of air. 

“Miss?” 

Cosima blinked, the small figure of a dark-haired little girl coming into focus. She was holding a few of the cans that had spilled from her grocery bag, which she’d apparently dropped at some point during her coughing fit.

“Miss, are you all right?” 

“I’m fine,” Cosima said quickly, “Hey, are those my groceries? Thanks, kiddo.” 

“I’m not kiddo!” The little girl was eagerly gathering spilled groceries, even as she objected. “I’m _Doris.”_

“Well, Doris, thank you very much. Let me take that,” Cosima added, holding out a hand for the can Doris was clutching.

The little girl’s eyes widened in horror.

“Miss,” she asked, voice trembling. “What’s on your hand?” 

Cosima looked. 

Her palm was wet with blood.

“It’s...it’s nothing, honey,” she said quickly, shoving her hand in her coat pocket. “Hey, listen, why don’t you keep those, okay? Do you like, uh, canned peaches?” she asked, squinting to get a better look at the can Doris was holding. 

Doris nodded, eyes still wide with fear as she ran away, casting the occasional glance back at Cosima as she fled. Cosima kept grinning, like everything was absolutely fine, until the little girl was out of sight.

Then, fingers shaking, she pulled her hand out of her pocket and stared, the blood dark, clotted, and _oh God it was blood, actually blood._

The smell hit her now, somewhere between metallic and cloyingly sweet, and for a dizzying moment Cosima stared at her stained and shaking fingers and thought she was going to be sick.

“Miss. _Miss!”_ Cosima startled, and looked up into the concerned face of the bus driver. She’d been so lost in her panic that she hadn’t noticed the bus pull up to her stop. “Miss, are you all right?” 

It was second time in the past ten minutes she’d been asked that, and for a wild moment Cosima didn’t understand--how could he think she was anything but not all right? How couldn’t he see that everything was wrong?

“I’m fine,” she told him, smiling for good measure. 

“No charge,” the driver said, and Cosima realized she must look worse than she thought. “No offense, Miss, but you look like you might fall over if you don’t sit down.”

“No, no that’s--n-none taken,” Cosima said. Under normal circumstances, she would’ve stood and paid anyway, just to make a point, but now she took the seat gratefully, hyper aware of the feeling of blood drying on the hand that rested in her pocket.

Don’t freak out. Don’t freak out. Don’t freak out. The bus went over a bump in the road and Cosima gasped, hand in her pocket clenching into a fist. 

The slowly-drying blood cracked, pulling at her skin, and she clenched her jaw around another gag. _Don’t freak out. Don’t freak out._

The bus pulled up to the stop nearest Mrs. S’s and Cosima stood automatically, heading through the streets toward home. The only sign she was anything but numb was her breathing, uneven and fast, and the way she kept clenching the hand in her pocket, trying to forget the blood but unable to ignore it.

_Don’t freak out. Don’t freak out. Don’t you DARE freak out._

“You all right there, chicken?” 

Cosima blinked, staring at her foster mother for a moment before putting the pieces together and responding.

“Yeah, yeah, it’s fine. I, uh, I didn’t get the peaches, though. There was a little girl with big hungry eyes, you know how it is.” 

“You’re too kind for your own good, chicken.” Mrs. S had already turned back to reading through a novel with Helena, the frizzy blonde’s slow English almost inaudible under the noise of Felix and Sarah squabbling in the next room and Tony egging both of them on.

“Hey, can I use the phone?” 

“So long as you don’t throw it through the wall, love.” 

“Thanks.” Cosima left the groceries in a heap on the kitchen table before squeezing past the bickering siblings and into the bathroom, locking the door behind her. 

She allowed herself one deep, shuddering breath, and pulled her hand, now sticky with half-dried blood, out of her pocket. 

Without thinking, she turned the hot water tap as far as it would go and plunged her hand into the steaming water, scrubbing at her palm with a sort of frenzied calm, her face impassive and fingers shaking. 

Her hands were red and stinging, but clean, and she let out a small relieved breath, drying them gently before turning back to the mirror. 

The only warning was a stutter in her breathing, and then she was coughing again, a burning creeping up her throat as she braced herself, one hand on either side of the sink as she bent over, struggling to clear her throat. 

The sink was spattered with crimson, and all Cosima could do was stare.

_Damage control._ She dabbed at her lips with a washcloth, rinsing the cloth until the water ran clear, and then she washed the sink, wearing the bar of hand soap almost down to a nub before she set it aside, the ceramic white again. 

She forced herself to take a deep breath, then forced herself to swallow the cough that tried to follow it, walking out of the bathroom with measured, steady steps. 

The phone was cool in her hand. Her hands themselves were steady as she dialed.

_“Hello, this is Information.”_

“I need the number for Doctor Delphine Cormier, please.” 

_“Do you have her address?”_

“No, I don’t, I…” 

“One moment, please.” Cosima waited, twisting the cord in her fingers, until the operator’s professional voice came back on the line. She took the number and thanked the operator, still feeling as if she was in some sort of haze. 

_“Would you like to call this number?”_ Cosima nodded before remembering to speak, the cord biting into her fingertips. _“One moment please.”_

Something broke in the other room, and out of the corner of her eye Cosima saw Felix run from the other room, laughing. 

_“I’m sorry, she isn’t answering--”_

“Try again.” 

_“Ma’am--”_

“Please. Try again.” 

The operator went silent as she tried Delphine’s number again. 

_“She isn’t answering, Ma’am, would you like me to try again?”_

“I…” Cosima stopped, forcing her fingers to release the telephone cord. “No, no, it’s fine. Thank you for trying.” 

She didn’t slam the phone down. She placed it carefully in the cradle, cutting off whatever the operator was about to say. 

“Shit,” Cosima muttered, pressing both hands to her forehead and pulling at her hair. “Shit.” 

“Oi, Cos, if you’re that desperate for your girlfriend and a shag, you should just do it yourself.” Felix’s voice was full of laughter, but he paused when he saw Cosima’s face. “You all right, Cos?”

“Fine,” she snapped, “I’m absolutely fine.” 

“All right, all right, don’t bite my head off,” he said, hands raised in his best placating stance. 

“I’m sorry, Felix,” she said, “Look, look, I--I think I’m gonna take your advice. Tell Sarah and Helena to steer clear of the room for a while, yeah?” 

“Jeeze, _jeeze,_ Cos,” Felix winced, taking a few quick steps backward. “I think I’ll just avoid your room forever, then.” 

“You do that.” She waited for him to leave before heading into the room, closing the door and then leaning back against it, slumping down until she was crouched with her back to the door.

She could feel it now, the air rasping through her lungs instead of smoothly sliding through them, the tightness where there shouldn’t be any, all the signs that this wasn’t a cold.

_This isn’t a cold._ Cosima buried her face in trembling hands, biting down on her lip and pressing down that thought, any thoughts, until her breathing smoothed out and she could ignore the rasp, ignore the exhaustion, ignore everything.

She stood up and cleaned her glasses before reapplying her makeup.

Her hands were steady.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Oi, Cos! Get your bloody arse out of bed, yeah? Helena’s gonna eat all the food again.”

Cosima coughed and slowly pulled herself upright, nearly jabbing herself in the eye before getting her glasses on. For a brief moment, she thought about just staying where she was--it wasn’t as if she’d had a huge appetite lately--but sleeping through breakfast would invite questions, and her family’s concern was the last thing she wanted right now. 

“Cos!” 

“I’m coming,” she half-shouted back, shrugging on her dressing gown as she did. She stopped in front of the shared vanity (which Sarah usually ignored and Helena used as a spot to store food) to finger-comb out the worst of her bedhead and slap some color into her cheeks before heading down to the kitchen. 

Breakfast was normally a relatively quiet affair. Helena and Tony both worked in nearby factories, with hours that started early enough that they were usually gone before Cosima had even gotten up. Sarah was forbidden from working by orders of Mrs. S, at least until the baby was born, so she took advantage of this most days by obstinately sleeping in as late as she could, usually after Cosima had left for the lab. Mrs. S was the only constant in the house, so it was normally just her and Cosima. 

But on Sundays, when everyone was off work and with nowhere to go, things were different.

“Helena--Helena, _stop,_ you’re going to make yourself sick.” 

“But Sarah, I am still hungry.” 

“Yeah, I can tell, but that--that’s just sugar. That’s _rationed,_ have...here, have some cereal.” 

“Pass that over when you’re done?” Tony asked around a mouthful of toast, smart enough to not try and grab it from his sister. Sarah sat next to her twin sister, chewing on her own slice of toast and glaring at the coffee that Tony insisted on drinking and had a smell that turned Sarah’s stomach.

Cosima poured herself a mug from the hot water kettle Mrs. S always had on the stove and dumped a teabag in it before swiping a slice of toast and some strawberry jam. The thick red chunks turned her stomach, but it still tasted sweet.

“Can I use the phone?” she interjected once there was something like a lull in the constant chatter of the house.

“Again?” 

“She wants her girlfriend,” Felix interrupted, draped across a chair in the corner. “Honestly, Cos, you’re so bloody smitten, it’s pathetic.” 

“Shut up, Felix,” Cosima sighed, pressing her fingers against the mug in an attempt to leech some warmth from the tea.

“It’s going to end badly,” Sarah called, and normally that would set Cosima’s teeth on edge and lead to a shouting match, but now she just didn’t have the energy. 

“You don’t get it, Sarah,” she said instead, no heat behind it. The comment was soft enough that Sarah didn’t respond, though Helena--who seemed to hear everything--gave Cosima an assessing look. Cosima just smiled and ate as cheerfully as someone could eat toast until Helena relaxed and looked away.

A cough grew in Cosima’s throat and she muffled it in a napkin, not looking at it as she crumpled it and threw it away. 

“But can I? Use the phone, I mean.” 

“Sure.” 

And then the phone rang. 

“You psychic, Cos?” 

“Maybe her dame is,” Tony said with a bark of laughter. “Go on, Cosima. Answer it. Prove us right.” 

“You’re all terrible,” she told them, but got up anyway to answer the phone. “Hello, this is Mrs. S’s home for strays, how can we be of assistance?” 

_“Ah, I’m sorry, I’m looking for Cosima? Doctor Cosima Niehaus, is she…”_

“Delphine?” 

_“Cosima?”_

“Delphine? Why are you calling? Did something happen at the lab?” 

_“No, no, I’m sorry.”_ Delphine sounded apologetic and ready to hang up. _“This is...it is very early and this is probably very silly, but someone was trying to call me yesterday, and I wasn’t sure if it was you--”_

“No, no, it was, it totally was.” 

_“Was there something…? Did something happen?”_

“Um, yeah. Kind of.” 

_“...Are you all right?”_

People kept asking her that, and she kept saying yes. But with Delphine…

With Delphine, she didn’t want to.

“Listen,” she said instead, because she was aware both that this was a party line--any of the neighbors could be listening--and that there were at least four people eavesdropping a wall away. “Can I...see you? Today sometime?” 

_“Of course.”_ Delphine didn’t hesitate before responding. _“Where would you like to meet?”_

“I don’t know if you know it, but there’s this park, Fort Greene, it used to be an army--” 

_“I can find it,”_ Delphine offered immediately, and Cosima wondered how desperate she must sound for Delphine to go to all this trouble. _“I can be there in an hour?”_

“Yeah, yeah, that works fine. I guess I’ll see you soon, then?” 

_“I’ll be there,”_ Delphine promised before the line went dead. Cosima held on to the receiver for a few moments longer, still craving Delphine’s voice, still waiting for Delphine to tell her everything would be okay, before hanging it up and heading back to the kitchen and her still-warm tea. 

“You’re gonna go see her, Cos?” Sarah didn’t even try to pretend she hadn’t been listening in. “It’s not gonna end well. Your boss is gonna find out, and you’re both gonna end up jobless. Is she even really queer?” 

“God, Sarah, why does it even matter to you?” 

“I’m trying to look out for you, idiot--” 

“Just because you got yourself pregnant doesn’t mean you have to mother everyone--” 

“She doesn’t even _look_ queer--” 

“You have no idea what you’re talking about,” Cosima hissed, all her worry and fear coming out as anger. “Have you ever even had a relationship that didn’t end in--” 

“Girls, that’s enough.” Mrs. S’s voice was sharp, and her glare was pointed at both of them. Cosima’s breathing had turned ragged from shouting, and Sarah was refusing to look either of them in the eye. Without a word, but shoving her chair hard enough that it toppled over, Sarah marched out of the kitchen and then the house altogether, the door slamming behind her.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Felix asked. Helena was frozen in place, her eyes darting from where Sarah had slammed the door to Cosima, looking for all the world like a trapped and terrified animal. Mrs. S put an arm gently around the woman, looking at Cosima with disappointment.

“I’m going to get dressed,” Cosima snapped. The half-eaten toast and tea left on the table, she marched to her room and slammed the door, not quite quickly enough to muffle Felix’s indignant accusation that she must be ‘on the rag, she’s so bloody hot and cold.’ 

She threw her dressing gown off and didn’t bother hanging it up. Her dress, however, she chose with a bit more care, slipping into a maroon frock and drawing a line up the back of her legs with a pencil in lieu of pantyhose. 

Her mind wandered as she applied her makeup, eyeliner a little darker and lips a bit redder than they would be normally. 

Sarah _didn’t_ get it, that was the thing. She was straight--at least, she’d never dated a woman--and never anyone like Delphine. Sarah dated guys for their money, for a place to stay at night, for a bit of fun before she left them. She was always leaving, never looking for anything more than a fling and a roll in the hay. She’d gotten knocked up and run rather than marry the guy, and was now trying to get Cosima to do the same. 

It worked for Sarah, or at least it had until she’d gotten pregnant. Sarah was a mover, a survivor, a wild one who needed nobody but herself. 

Cosima needed Delphine.

It was that simple. 

As much as she loved her family--even Sarah, who was a raging bitch half the time, and Tony who loved nothing more to get on her nerves--none of them saw the world the way Cosima did. None of them understood her, either. Not for lack of trying, or lack of loving, but they just didn’t understand. 

But Delphine did.

And maybe she could help Cosima understand this, to wrap her head around whatever was happening to her in a way that wasn’t the fear that had been running under her skin since yesterday.

She tied her hair back in a half-up style and reach for one of the white handkerchiefs she kept in her drawer before pulling back, pressing a hand to her chest as she held in a cough.

She grabbed a red handkerchief instead.

Mrs. S would never let anyone skip out on chores, never mind that they were all adults. Sarah was the only occasional exception, and only on those days when Sarah didn’t come home at all. Cosima dutifully walked into the kitchen, washed her share of dishes, and put them away without speaking to a single sibling. 

She hadn’t used up quite enough time to justify taking a cab or bus down to the park, so she walked instead. At least it was a nice day, the sun warm on her face, and she could basically ignore the heaviness in her limbs and tightness in her chest.

She made it to the park before she couldn’t ignore it anymore.

Park benches never looked more inviting, and Cosima sank down onto the nearest one with a small relieved groan. She pressed her hand to her chest and shut her eyes, waiting for her breathing to return to normal.

“Cosima?” 

She squinted and looked up to see Delphine, silhouetted by the sun.

“Delphine?” 

“You’re early.” 

“I’m as surprised as you,” she said, scooting over on the bench to invite Delphine to sit. “Believe me, it was accidental.” 

“I’m sorry I missed your calls,” Delphine said, sitting. “What was--” 

“Where were you?” Cosima asked instead, suddenly not wanting to face what she’d come here to talk about. “Busy Saturday?” 

“Not exactly. I was…away from the phone.” 

“I called you twice.” 

“I am sorry, Cosima--” 

“What if there’d been an emergency? Or they needed you at the lab? Is there no good way to reach you--” 

“Cosima.” Delphine voice wasn’t mad, only firm and concerned. It stopped Cosima’s rant in its tracks. “What is going on?” 

“I--” Cosima’s lip quivered against her will. “I’m sick, Delphine.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter was fluffy, so it had to be balanced out with something, right?
> 
> Liked it? Hated it? Love me? Hate me? Comments are always loved and criticism is always encouraged, either here or on my tumblr (probablytatiana.tumblr.com). As always, thank you so much for reading, and I hope you find money on the ground today.


	6. Six

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for: Illness, discussions of illness (cancer, specifically), and implied sex.

_"I'm sick, Delphine."_

Delphine only looked confused for a moment before her face crumpled in pained comprehension. Gently, like approaching an injured bird, she cupped one of Cosima’s cheeks in her hand. 

“Talk to me.” 

“It started yesterday...I mean it didn’t, it started days ago--it was a cold, Delphine, it was just a cold.” 

Delphine stayed silent, and Cosima blinked hard, rubbing quickly at her eye. 

“Yesterday, it...I...blood. I started coughing up blood. Clotted, dark, so it’s not from a raw throat, it’s...it’s from something else. Based on the, uh, trouble I’ve been having breathing, it’s probably from my lungs. Something is bleeding in my lungs.” 

“Cosima…” 

“I’m sick, Delphine, I...I’m sick.” 

Delphine wrapped her arms around Cosima and pulled her close. Cosima clung to Delphine, and for the first time since seeing the bloodstain, let her tears fall.

It was early enough that Sunday morning that the churches were still full and therefore the parks empty. Cosima sobbed raggedly into Delphine’s shoulder, and Delphine let her, not trying to hush or soothe her, only quietly promising Cosima that she was there, that she wasn’t leaving, and that it was going to be okay. 

“Okay,” she said finally, pulling away from Delphine just enough so that she could wipe at the tear residue on her cheeks. “Okay, I--”

The coughs hit her suddenly, like a punch to the gut, and Cosima pressed her hands to her mouth automatically. Delphine pressed a handkerchief into her hands and Cosima took it, leaning into Delphine’s hands as the other woman held her up.

The fit was short, at least, and it wasn’t long before Cosima lowered the handkerchief, her breath still quicker than they should be.

Of course, Delphine’s handkerchief was white. The bloodstains were berry-bright, like smeared lipstick across the cloth. 

“Cosima, this is serious.” 

“Yeah, I couldn’t have guessed.” 

“Let me call Howard.” Delphine tucked a stray lock of hair behind Cosima’s ear, her thumb gently caressing Cosima’s cheekbone. “There is only so much we can do, he has resources--”

“I don’t want to get him involved.” 

“Cosima, you need to get to a hospital. I have medical training, but I can only do so much--and there is nothing I can do here, without equipment.” 

“I just don’t want to get people involved. I don’t want my family to find out. They’ll just worry.” 

“If you want few people involved, we can do that,” Delphine promised. “But Howard is our best option. If you go to a Stark hospital, it will be private, have the best equipment, I can be your physician. We need to do something, Cosima.” 

“Yeah, okay, you’re right,” Cosima sighed, “I just--it feels like admitting it makes it real. I don’t want this to be real. I want it to be a bad dream, or some weird misunderstanding, and to make it go away. Without anybody knowing. Without anybody hurt.” 

“I know,” Delphine murmured, “I know, _ma cherie._ I’m so sorry.” 

“We were _happy,”_ Cosima said, hating how her voice came out as a childish whine. “We were so happy, Delphine, why can’t we just go back to that, why can’t we just--” 

“Shh, _cherie,”_ Delphine said gently, pressing a kiss to Cosima’s forehead before pulling her close again. “We will be happy again. Everything will be all right. Perhaps we are worrying too early, anyway. This could be anything. We may be, how do you Americans say it? Hopping the gun?” 

“Jumping the gun,” Cosima corrected, with a small wet giggle. “You totally know that phrase, you’re just trying to make me laugh.” 

“Mm, but it worked, did it not?” 

“You’re terrible,” Cosima laughed, relaxing into Delphine’s arms. “Hey, did you say you could be my physician?” 

“Yes?” 

“Aren’t you kinda young to be a doctor?” She squinted up at Delphine’s face as she asked. “No offense, but you’re around my age, aren’t you?” 

“Yes, but most people only start their medical training late in life. My father taught at home, and began me with the biological sciences when I was very young. I picked up on it quickly, and there was much time to learn.” 

“So you’re a genius prodigy, that’s basically what you’re saying.” 

“It was you who said it, not me,” Delphine said, with a little faux-modest shrug. 

“Look at you, Doctor Cormier,” Cosima teased, gently poking Delphine’s side. 

“Mm, Doctor Niehaus,” she replied, gently stroking Cosima’s hair. “I should call Howard.” 

“I know,” Cosima said softly, “I know.” 

“There is a pay phone I passed coming down here,” Delphine said, Cosima nodding along. “I’ll go call him, and you can fix up your makeup, okay?” 

“Is it that bad?” Delphine passed her a makeup compact and a small mirror, and Cosima looked. “Oh. Oh it is.” 

“I will be right back, okay?” Delphine glanced around the park, and seeing that it was still deserted, she pressed a gentle kiss to Cosima’s lips. 

“Not going anywhere,” Cosima promised. She took the makeup with a grateful little smile and tried to fix the mess she’d made of her face. Luckily she hadn't worn much to begin with, so it wasn’t as bad as it could have been.

_Small mercies,_ she thought to herself, glancing at Delphine’s ruined handkerchief crumpled beneath the bench.

“Cosima,” Delphine called as she half-jogged back over, a few minutes later. “Mr. Stark is sending a car--it will be here in a few minutes.” 

“Mr. Stark?” 

“Yes?” Delphine blinked, confused.

“You called ‘Howard’ earlier,” Cosima explained as Delphine sat back down. “So, which is it? Your buddy Howard or boss Mr. Stark?” 

“Oh,” Delphine said, “That’s because we have worked together for months, I suppose. He helped to get me out of France, months ago now--we got close, I suppose. Calling him Mr. Stark in public helps avoid...misunderstandings.” 

“To stop people from thinking you’re sleeping together, you mean.” 

“Ah, yes.” 

“Glad to know that he’ll still help us out, even if he’s not, ahem, benefiting.” 

“He’s very fond of you, Cosima,” Delphine pointed out. “And you are doing so much for the project, he is lucky to have you. You are the great Doctor Niehaus, are you not?” 

As they spoke, a man in a suit and hat approached them. 

“Excuse me, Doctor Cormier, Doctor Niehaus?” 

“That’s us,” Cosima chirped. “Who are you, the British mafia?” 

“I’m Jarvis,” the man continued, unruffled. “I’m Mr. Stark’s butler. He said the two of you might require a ride to Stark Hospital.” 

“Well, you might be right.” Cosima stood and straightened her dress, giving Jarvis an appraising look. “A butler, huh?” 

“Among other duties.” He nodded to Delphine, the two of them clearly already familiar. “The car is just this way, ladies.” 

“Ladies. I like the sound of that.” Cosima dabbed once more at her cheeks before following Jarvis, the sound of Delphine’s heels following her. “So do you just sit around and wait for Stark to call you to pick up random women from parks?” 

“Not exactly,” Jarvis said without missing a beat. “It’s more commonly removing women from penthouses.” 

“Why am I not surprised,” Cosima sighed, grinning when she heard Delphine’s muffled giggle from behind her. 

“Yes, though I must admit I find this much more pleasant. I just wish it was under better circumstances.” 

“Yeah, well, we all do,” Cosima shrugged, dismissing the comment. The three lapsed into an awkward silence, punctuated by the clack of heels against pavement. Cosima’s steps faltered for a moment as her heel caught on a cobblestone and Delphine was at her side immediately, her hand wrapped around Cosima’s elbow.

“Are you--” 

“If you ask me if I am all right, I will walk away right now,” Cosima threatened, only half-joking. “It started yesterday. We have time.” 

Delphine began to pull away, and Cosima stopped her. She slid her hand down Delphine’s arm and laced their fingers together, pulling the taller woman closer. Delphine smiled, surprised, but then her gaze flickered over to Jarvis and back to Cosima, the surprise turning to fear. 

“Cosima--” 

“Nothing wrong with a couple of friends holding hands on a warm spring day, is there?” Cosima shrugged, running her thumb over the back of Delphine’s hand. “It doesn’t have to mean anything to anyone watching.” 

“Cosima…” Delphine’s smile was back, even though she kept glancing nervously around them. “You are--” 

“Attractive? Brilliant? Alluring?” 

“Cheeky,” Delphine laughed, “You are a very cheeky girl.” 

“Yeah, but that’s why you like me.” 

“Mm, I do,” Delphine murmured, pressing a small kiss to the back of Cosima’s hand. Cosima grinned and leaned up for a kiss, only for Delphine to lean away, glancing again at Jarvis.

“C’mon, Jarvis can keep a secret,” Cosima wheedled. “Can’t you, Jarvis?” 

“Discretion is key when working for Mr. Stark,” Jarvis replied. “Believe me, Doctor Cormier, I have seen plenty. You two will hardly be able to shock me.” 

“See? Plus he’s British. Natural stiff upper lip and all that.” Cosima bumped into Delphine gently, making her stumble and smile softly. “Come on. Life is short.” 

“Don’t,” Delphine said softly, but she pulled Cosima close anyway, checking once more for any passerby before bending and kissing Cosima, their teeth clacking and noses bumping slightly thanks to the angle. Delphine pulled away far too quickly for Cosima’s liking, but stayed close, pressing one more quick kiss to Cosima’s cheek.

“Ladies?” Jarvis interrupted, sounding genuinely apologetic. “We’re here.” 

“Swanky ride,” Cosima whistled, impressed. The sleek black car looked out of place on the empty Brooklyn street, far too classy for the area and clearly Stark’s. “Come on,” she said to Delphine, tugging her toward the car. “Let’s go face my mortality.”

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Delphine, this looks...this doesn’t look good.”

Delphine stood between Howard Stark and the best doctor he had on his staff, staring at Cosima’s chest x-rays. 

“It would’ve been better to catch it earlier,” Delphine said flatly, reaching out to trace one of the shadows on the lung with a finger. “But there is no point in worrying about what can’t be changed. We have to devise a treatment plan.” 

“Delphine…” 

“The growths are widespread, yes. How good is your surgical team?” 

“Surgery--Delphine, her _entire lung_ is full of growths. Both of them.”

“The area of greatest concentration appears to be the left inferior lobe. If we can remove the area of origin--” 

“Even if it prevents new growth, what’s the cost of that? There are already growths in the superior lobe, and in the right lung as well.” 

“Then we’ll perform a pneumonectomy,” Delphine said, not looking away from the x-rays as she did so. “If the left lung is the origin of the growths, we’ll remove it.” 

“You can’t be serious. _Delphine,”_ Howard added, when she didn’t respond. “You can’t just remove her _lung.”_

“It’s been done before, Howard--” 

“Yeah, it’s been done. Plenty of times. Ask me how many times the patient didn’t die on the table, or lived for more than a few hours afterward.” 

“You are not a medical doctor, Howard,” Delphine snapped, turning away from the x-rays and facing the other doctor for the first time. “Doctor Gardner, your opinion.” 

“I…” 

“Doctor Gardner. Your _opinion,”_ Delphine repeated, the shorter man visibly nervous. 

“I...Doctor Cormier, all due respect, but Mr. Stark is correct, the success rate for a pneumonectomy is--is--” He shook his head, not willing to elaborate. “And in a case as advanced as this one, even a lobectomy would be unnecessary pain and suffering. The spread is so far that the benefit would be negligible, if there was any.”

“Your treatment plan, then Doctor?” Delphine asked, voice flat, as she turned back to the x-rays.

Doctor Gardner shrugged helplessly. “Palliative care, counseling, a nice long trip to somewhere she’s always wanted to go. She has a few weeks, if she’s lucky--”

“Out.”

“E-Excuse me?”

“Get _out,”_ Delphine hissed, hands clenching into fists. Gardner glanced toward Howard before hurrying from the room. The moment he was gone, Delphine snatched the x-rays off the light table, muttering to herself in French.

“Delphine…”

“You promised me your best,” she spat at Howard, slamming the x-rays down onto a table. “He was _not_ your best.”

“Delphine, calm down--” Howard said, reaching out to take Delphine’s shoulders in a placating gesture.

“Don’t touch me.” Delphine slapped at his hands until Howard backed off. “You need to find me someone better. Someone who knows what they are doing, someone willing to actually needs to be done--” 

“To cut out your girlfriend’s lung? Slice her up like a pig without even talking to her first?” 

“If that’s what it takes to save her!” 

“It will _kill_ her!” Howard shouted, and Delphine stopped, staring at him with wide eyes. “You’re not thinking, Delphine!”

Delphine turned away from Howard, her voice steady even as her clenched fists trembled at her sides. Howard was gentlemanly enough to pretend not to see. 

“I can’t lose her. She is all I have. _All_ I have.”

“I know,” he said gently. “I know.”

“I need a team,” Delphine said at last, forcing her fists to relax. “A radiologist, at least. People who will work with us.” 

“I’ll see what I can do.”

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------

“So what’s the diagnosis, Doc?” Cosima asked as Delphine and Howard reentered the room, swinging her legs against the examination table. The third doctor who’d been there in the beginning, a short and mousy man, was noticeably absent. She’d snuggled into a dressing gown as soon as the tests were done, but was still wearing the thin paper gown beneath it, the chill of the exam room seeming to bite into her bones.

“Cosima…” Delphine began, the pain in her golden eyes almost undoing Cosima there. As if sensing that, Delphine turned away and busied herself with the x-rays.

“These are your x-rays.” Delphine turned on the lightbox, and Cosima sucked in a low breath.

_“Shit,”_ she breathed. “That’s...really not good.” Almost fascinated, she slid off the examination table and walked over to the pictures.

The lungs in the x-ray-- _my lungs,_ Cosima reminded herself--looked like they’d been filled with mist. It was almost beautiful, the smoky wisps gracefully curling up and away from the larger white masses that filled the lungs. 

_Almost_ beautiful, because each and every one of those white spots were growths, and every wisp a similar lesion.

“Cancer, then?”

“Yes,” Delphine said softly. “I assume I don’t need to show you healthy lungs as a comparison.” 

“No,” Cosima said, still staring at all the clouded areas on the x-ray that should have been a clear black. “These pretty much speak for themselves.” She traced a particularly clouded patch with a fingertip, then touched the corresponding spot on her chest. “Is there any sort of treatment…” 

“Yes,” Delphine said quickly, pulling out papers and moving to Cosima’s side. “There was a German study after the Great War that found nitrogen mustard can reduce rates of cellular division--” 

“Basically, it helps suppress tumor growth.” 

“Yes, exactly,” Delphine said. “Hopefully, this in a sort of serum will slow the tumor growth, if not shrink the tumors themselves.”

“Yeah, surgery doesn’t look like it’d help much,” Cosima noted. “Unless you wanted to remove both my lungs, in which case the cancer would become a non-issue.” 

“That, combined with radiation--” 

“Daily doses?” Cosima interrupted, smiling softly when Delphine gave her a surprised look. “I read the study out of France. That country’s produced some pretty good scientists, you know.” 

“Daily doses of radiation do improve prognosis,” Delphine agreed.

“Is there even a radiologist on staff here? What happened to that little doctor--Gardner?” 

“I’m calling in my best radiologist,” Howard explained quickly. “He’ll be here tomorrow. But, Niehaus--Cosima,” he corrected. “Even with the most aggressive treatments, and whatever new drugs there are, the prognosis for this--” 

“I know.” Cosima gave him a small smile. “You guys kind of had your bad news faces on from the beginning. But there’s something to be said for having a little faith. Besides, going down fighting, right?”

“We’ll start tomorrow,” Delphine said softly, pulling down the x-rays before taking Cosima’s hand. Howard quietly slipped from the room, closing the door behind him. 

“New drugs and radiation?” Cosima asked, staring at her and Delphine’s entwined hands instead of meeting Delphine’s eyes. “Sounds hopeful.” 

“It is. Cosima, it _is,”_ Delphine insisted, tipping Cosima’s head upward so they were forced to look each other in the eye. “There are new discoveries, new treatments, every day, and we have all the resources of the world here--” 

Cosima kissed her. 

It was desperate and off-center, but Cosima remedied that with another kiss, tangling both her hands in Delphine’s curls. Delphine’s hands came to rest on Cosima’s hips, pulling her closer as she caught Cosima’s lower lip between her teeth. 

“You will be all right,” Delphine gasped when they broke apart for air. _“Cherie,_ you will be--” 

“Shh,” Cosima breathed, kissing her again. Delphine responded after only a moment’s hesitation, her kisses as deep and full of need as Cosima’s own. It was only after Delphine began kissing Cosima’s neck and Cosima, with a low moan, began to push Delphine’s lab coat off her shoulders that Delphine pulled away. 

“Is this okay?” Cosima asked, watching Delphine’s eyes for any flicker of discomfort. “Are you?” 

“I--” Delphine licked her lips, eyes darting to Cosima’s and away. “Yes. I want this. But you want this to be...to happen here?” 

“Delphine,” Cosima said gently, pulling Delphine’s lab coat off the blonde’s shoulders entirely before looking back up into her eyes. “Life is short. Let’s live.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am messing with the cancer research timeline a bit in this fic, but the German study on mustard gas--specifically mustine--and the French study regarding radiation (the Coutard method) were both real and from this time period. Look it up--the evolution of medicine is fascinating (or don't, I am a massive nerd so my definition of fascinating might not match with yours).
> 
> I am moving into a college dorm next Sunday (!!!!) so next week's update will probably come Saturday night instead of the usual time.
> 
> Again, thank you all so, so much for reading and I love you all so much. Come talk to me in the comments, or on tumblr at probablytatiana.
> 
> <3


	7. Seven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for: Illness, butchering of the French language.

“Hey,” Cosima murmured, her arm wrapped around Delphine. They were cuddled together on the floor of the exam room, having discovered very quickly that the exam table was both uncomfortable and too small for two women. They were mostly clothed again, holding each other underneath Delphine’s lab coat--

And Delphine was crying.

“Hey, are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Delphine said, dabbing at her eyes. 

“You sure?” 

“Yes, yes.” Delphine sniffed softly, buttoning up the top few buttons of her dress and slipping out from underneath the lab coat. “But the floor cannot be comfortable--or good for you.” 

“I mean, some good things happened there,” Cosima joked, standing slowly and wrapping the coat around her. “But seriously, are you okay?” 

“Yes.” Delphine straightened her collar and pressed a brief kiss to Cosima’s cheek. “I will see you tomorrow, okay?” she said, a bit distractedly.

“Yeah, of course.” Delphine smiled, a bit tightly, and slipped from the room with a small half wave.

“Good night, Cosima.” 

“Night.”

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------

“You know you don’t have to be here for this, right?”

Cosima sat, again in a paper white hospital gown, on an official Stark Ergonometric Hospital Bed, waiting for her first round of radiation. Delphine sat in a chair next to the bed, her fingers tangled in Cosima’s. 

“Where else would I be?” 

“I don’t know, work?” Cosima suggested with a one-shoulder shrug. “It’s a Monday, after all. Don’t tell me that the great Doctor Delphine Cormier is playing hooky.” 

“I have today and tomorrow off,” Delphine replied, “So these days are all for you.” 

“It’s not like I don’t appreciate the gesture,” Cosima said, “But I don’t want you hovering, okay? I’m sick, not a baby. I don’t need you mothering.” 

“Speaking of mothers,” Delphine said, and Cosima stiffened. “How did she react to the news, your Mrs. S?” 

“Yeah, about that,” Cosima said, reaching up to fiddle with her glasses. “She, uh, doesn’t actually know. About this, I mean.” 

“Cosima…” 

“Look, it would just make Mrs. S worry and freak out the rest of the family. They don’t need that right now. _I_ don’t need that right now. They know I’ve got a cough, and they know I’m dealing with it. That’s all they need to know.” 

“Um…” Both women turned toward the door, where Scott Smith, the new radiologist-- _he’s great, I promise, just try to get past the fact that he looks like a high school dork and not a prodigy_ Howard had said--stood in the doorway, an awkward smile frozen on his face. “Y-you’re Doctor Niehaus, right?”

“Cosima,” Cosima corrected, “and this is Delphine. Doctor Delphine Cormier.” 

Scott’s eyes widened as Delphine gave him a small nod, and he managed a small half-wave in return. 

“Scott Smith, right?” Cosima said, when it looked like Scott would be happy to just stare at Delphine for the rest of his life. She understood the sentiment, but wasn’t about to let him indulge. “Stark said you were the radiologist?”

“Yeah, yeah, that’s me, radiologist and x-ray technician. We’re, uh, ready to start--I mean, ready to get ready to start, if you are.” 

“Do you want me to stay?” Delphine asked as Scott began adjusting the large machine that would be beaming radiation at her chest. Cosima shook her head, even though she didn’t quite let go of Delphine’s hand.

“Nah, there’s nothing much to see here. Just a big ol’ tube pointing at my boobs. I’d love a cup of tea or something though, once this is over. Can you go get me some, please?”

“Of course,” she said. “And I will get you some of that ice cream you always talk about.” 

“Eskimo pie?” Cosima asked hopefully, and Delphine laughed.

“Anything for you,” Delphine said, pressing a kiss to Cosima’s hand. Cosima grinned and kissed Delphine’s hand as well. “You’re sure you will be--” 

“I will be _fine,”_ Cosima insisted. “Now go and get me some ice cream.” 

“Needy girl,” Delphine chuckled before standing and crossing over to where Scott was making the final adjustments to the radiation machine. “You have studied the Coutard method?” 

“Y-yeah,” Scott stuttered, somewhat surprised at being directly addressed.

“You studied it _well?”_

“I…” 

“Delphine,” Cosima said, “Go. Scott and I will be fine. I’ll see you in half an hour, okay?”

Delphine gave Scott one last appraising look before nodding and leaving.

“So…” Scott said once the door had shut, trying very hard to aim the machine at Cosima’s chest without looking at her breasts. “You and Doctor Cormier seem like good friends.”

“Just…” Cosima sighed, flopping back against the pillows. “Just beam me, Scotty.”

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------

“This is the first dose of the drugs,” Delphine explained, slipping an IV needle into the crook of Cosima’s elbow. “In conjunction with the radiation--”

“I know,” Cosima interrupted. “Also a scientist, remember?”

“I’m sorry,” Delphine said, adjusting the bottle full of fluids. “How are you feeling?”

“Fine,” Cosima sighed. “Tired, chest hurts, but all the usual, okay? I’ll tell you if it gets worse. But come on, a little radiation and mustard gas in liquid form? I can take more than that.”

“Of course.” 

“Now can I have another eskimo pie?” 

“Another?” Delphine laughed. “You’ve had two already.” 

“They’re good,” Cosima whined, making grabby hands toward the small fridge that was apparently standard in Stark hospital rooms. “Split one with me. You’ll love it.”

“All right, all right.” Delphine said, pulling out and unwrapping one of the small foil packages. “But you have to eat well, okay? What sort of doctor would I be if I did not take every chance to advocate for vegetables and fruits?” 

“A really, really attractive one?” 

“That is a nice try,” Delphine said, handing Cosima half of the chocolate-covered ice cream square anyway. “But I believe you have already told me I am attractive no matter what.”

“Oh, did I?” Cosima eased. “Damn. My plot has been foiled.”

 _“Pauvre petit chiot,”_ Delphine cooed, sucking a bit of melted ice cream off one of her fingers.

“Did you just call me a puppy?”

“Mm, _oui.”_

“Oh come on, you’re the puppy.” Noticing that Delphine still hadn’t taken a bite of her half, Cosima took a large bite of her piece of eskimo pie, making an exaggerated happy face as she did so. “Mm, this is _so good.”_

“Cosima, what are you doing?” 

“Encouraging you to loosen up a little,” Cosima said, taking another bite. _“Oh,_ it’s _delicious._ Say delish-u.” 

“Are you trying to say _c’est délicieux?”_

“What are you talking about? That’s exactly what I said.” 

Delphine laughed again before taking a bite of her own eskimo pie, making a small pleased sound despite herself. 

“Good, isn’t it?” 

“Yes, yes,” Delphine agreed, licking at a bit of melted chocolate on her lip. “I am sorry for doubting you.”

“You should be.” Cosima took another bite of ice cream, practically shoving the entire rest of the bar into her mouth. 

_“Cherie,_ you have a spot of chocolate…” 

“What? Where?” 

“Here.” Delphine leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss just to the side of Cosima’s mouth, her tongue flicking briefly over Cosima’s cheek. “There you go.” 

“You missed a spot,” Cosima said, catching Delphine’s elbow as she began to lean back. “Right here.” 

Delphine let out a muffled moan as Cosima kissed her deeply, the blonde’s hands coming up to rest on Cosima’s cheeks. Cosima attempted to mirror the move, only to hiss and pull away as the needle in her arm got caught and pinched. 

“Cosima?” Delphine pulled back, concern written all over her face. 

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” Cosima insisted. “It’s just this stupid IV.” 

Delphine sat up and took Cosima’s arm, gently probing the site where the tubing disappeared into Cosima’s flesh. 

“What? Have I gone and broken the tube or something?” 

“No, no, you’re fine,” Delphine said, half-distracted, as she stood to check the bottle hanging from the IV stand. “Does it still hurt?” 

“No, I just pulled it, that’s all.” She watched Delphine fiddle with the IV for a few more moments before reaching out and tugging at Delphine’s hand, encouraging the taller woman to sit back down. “Delphine.” 

“What is it, _ma cherie?”_

“Nothing, you’ve just got your worried face on. And your ice cream is melting.”

“Oh,” Delphine said, looking over at the melted chocolate and ice cream that sat on the side table. _“Merde.”_

“I’ll split another with you,” Cosima offered as Delphine swept the mess into a convenient trash can.

“You have had plenty, cheeky girl,” Delphine scolded gently as Cosima grinned unrepentantly. 

“But they’re so good.” 

A knock on the door interrupted the two, leaving Cosima to lean back into her pillows and mutter about the universe being cruel while Delphine went to answer the door. 

“Doctor Cormier?” A nervous young man stood in the doorway. “Mr. Stark says he knows it’s your day off but he’d like your opinion on something, if you wouldn’t mind…?”

“Go,” Cosima said before Delphine even opened her mouth. “I am fine. It’s a Stark hospital. The nurses are all top of the line and probably very pretty. I’ll be fine.” 

Delphine gave Cosima one last look, but when Cosima kept grinning brightly, she relented and followed the young man out of the room. 

Once the door had shut and she was certain Delphine wasn’t going to be coming back for a while, Cosima’s shoulders sagged and she sank into the pillows. Her chest tightened, and she barely had a moment to grab a cloth before coughing, sickened both by the coppery taste and the way the feeling of blood forcing its way up her throat had begun to become familiar. 

A Stark hospital was still a hospital, all sterile white walls and bedding. The only spots of color Cosima could see was the pale orange of the drugs creeping into her system and the bright red that’d come out of it.

 _All the color in here is because I’m dying,_ Cosima thought to herself. _If I was a poet, I could make something out of that._

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Cosima awoke to a pulling sensation in her elbow. She swatted at the feeling automatically, until a warm hand closed around her own.

“Cosima? Are you awake, _ma cherie?”_

“No,” Cosima muttered, blinking awake in spite of herself. “Delphine?” 

_“Bonjour,”_ Delphine said, gently taping a bit of gauze over the puncture mark on Cosima’s elbow. “I didn’t mean to wake you, I’m sorry.” 

“No, no, it’s fine.” Cosima rubbed her eyes, coughing slightly as she sat up. “What time is it?” 

“A bit after three. You’ve only been sleeping a couple of hours.” 

“God, sleeping through the afternoon. I thought I’d outgrown that when I got out of kindergarten.”

“It is to be expected,” Delphine pointed out. “Your lung capacity has been greatly reduced, so you aren’t getting as much oxygen. Fatigue is only natural.” 

“I thought you’d left,” Cosima said, putting on the glasses that someone had taken off and put on the bedside table. 

“I will never leave you,” Delphine teased gently, standing and pulling the now-empty IV bottle off the stand. “You’re finished for today.” 

“Thank god,” Cosima sighed, rubbing at her chest. Delphine wordlessly passed her a handkerchief before turning to dispose of the IV equipment. “How’d I do, Doc? 8 out of 10?” 

“10 out of 10,” Delphine said with a small smile. “Would you like a gold star as well?” 

“I wouldn’t complain about one.” Cosima grinned, swinging her legs over the side of the bed. “So am I good to go home?” 

“Yes,” Delphine said, taking Cosima’s pulse. “But you will call--” 

“If I suddenly feel worse or anything changes, yes.” 

Delphine offered Cosima her arm to help her up, which Cosima gracefully accepted before shuffling behind a folding vanity screen in the corner to change back into her street clothes.

“May I offer you a ride home?” Delphine offered as Cosima changed. 

“I’m fully capable of riding a bus, Delphine,” Cosima grumbled, “Just the same as I did before.” 

“Yes,” Delphine agreed, though it sounded less like she truly agreed and more like she wanted to avoid an argument. “But Howard has already sent Jarvis here to pick us both us.” 

“Seriously?” Cosima stuck her head out from behind the screen, still buttoning up her dress. “He sent his personal butler just to pick me up?” 

“Apparently.” Delphine shrugged. “He’s been in the lobby for at least twenty minutes now.”

“And he’s insisting on paying for all this treatment too.” 

“I believe he said that it was all experimental, and the data is benefiting Stark-funded research, so it wouldn’t make sense for him not to pay for it.” 

“Huh.” Cosima stepped out from behind the screen, running her fingers through her hair so it looked a little bit less like bedhead. “Guess he’s not as much of a dick as he seems to be sometimes.” 

“I don’t think anyone could be as much of a, ah, dick as Howard always appears to be,” Delphine said, and Cosima snorted with laughter. 

“That is very, very true.” She stepped into her shoes before following Delphine out of the room and onto a nearby elevator. “I told you that I got this job because I kept writing Stark with corrections and suggestions for his designs and research papers, right?” 

“Mmhm.” 

“Well, part of the reason I started doing that was just because his public persona annoyed me so damn much.” 

“You can’t be serious,” Delphine laughed, turning back to look Cosima in the eye.

“It is, it really is. He’s a womanizer and a total jerk! And he’s smart despite all that, which just seems totally unacceptable.” 

“I cannot argue with you there,” Delphine said as they stepped into the hospital lobby. 

“Doctor Niehaus, Doctor Cormier,” Jarvis greeted them. “It’s good to see you again.” 

“Hey, Jarvis,” Cosima said brightly. “I can call you Jarvis, right? It’s not like Lord Master Jarvis or anything?”

“Just Jarvis is fine,” he replied, a small smile quirking at the corner of his mouth. “Despite assumptions, not all English people are royalty.” 

“You all sure act like it.” 

“Please forgive Cosima,” Delphine interjected, “She is a very cheeky girl. Though, I do sometimes think that she is just jealous of us from _Europe,”_ she added, deliberately pronouncing Europe the French way rather than the English one. Jarvis replied in French, and Cosima groaned as she tried to simultaneously keep up with the taller two and follow their conversation.

“Are you guys talking about recipes?” she asked as they approached the car, having finally recognized the word _oeuf_ as ‘egg.’ Delphine and Jarvis looked at each other and started giggling like schoolchildren while Cosima grumbled.

“It is not cool to make fun of the sick girl!” she scolded them as she climbed into the car. “You’re both fatheads,” she added when neither stopped laughing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have an update a few hours early! By the next time I update, I will officially have moved into a college dorm and taken classes--wish me luck!
> 
> Comments are always adored and criticism is most definitely encouraged, either here or on tumblr at probablytatiana. Thank you so, so much for reading, and I hope you all have wonderful weeks!


	8. Eight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for: Illness, seizures.

Cosima’s hand shook around the pipette she was holding, the drops of contrast dye she was supposed to be adding to the slide falling onto the table instead of the glass. She half-placed and half-slammed the pipette onto the table before she dropped it entirely.

“Cosima?” 

“I’m fine,” she forced out, coughing roughly into a handkerchief as she did so. 

“No, you’re not.” Delphine quickly crossed the lab, gently tilting Cosima’s head upward before pressing the back of her hand to the shorter woman’s forehead. “You know you don’t have to be here today. Howard is perfectly happy--” 

“To pay me while I do no work, I know.” Cosima said, brushing off Delphine’s hand. “But I’m not. He’s insisting on paying for my medical care, I’m going to at least earn my keep.” 

“I was going to say, happy to let you indulge in the company’s sick leave policy. You are sick, Cosima.” 

“I feel fine.” 

Delphine didn’t answer that, instead simply taking the stained handkerchief from Cosima and replacing it with one of her own. 

“It’s only been a week,” Cosima continued, turning in her seat to face Delphine instead of trying to lift the pipette again. “Scott said the worst symptoms usually start setting in after two to six.” 

“I’m not allowed to worry?” Delphine asked, touching Cosima’s face again--though this time the touch was more caressing than clinical. “Are we not going straight, as you Americans say?” 

“Going straight?” Cosima laughed, leaning into Delphine’s touch. “Is that what you said?” 

“What’s so funny?” 

“Delphine, we’re going the opposite of straight. We’re going as queer as they come.” She grinned, reaching out to take Delphine’s other hand. “You’re cute, though.” 

“Mm, I’ve been told,” Delphine said, kissing Cosima’s cheek gently. 

“You missed,” Cosima said, pulling Delphine back down as she tried to straighten up. Instead of Delphine’s lips against her own, however, she got the warm press of Delphine’s fingertips against her lips. She looked up into Delphine’s amused eyes. 

“Even if Howard approves, we are still in public, there are cameras.”

“Cameras?” 

“Howard likes to keep things secure,” she said with a shrug “In any case, as long as we only kiss on the cheeks, we are only friends. We are safe, secret, secure. But in private…” Delphine let her sentence trail off, her fingers gently ghosting over Cosima’s bottom lip.

“So you’ll only kiss me in private,” Cosima breathed, and Delphine nodded.

_“Oui.”_

“But we had sex in an examination room.” 

_“Americans,”_ Delphine sighed, but with laughter in her voice. “You take the romance out of everything.” 

“It’s _true.”_

It was then that Erskine entered the room, muttering in German.

“Two of the mice died last night!” he said in English when he noticed the two of them. “Two! We have to go back to the earliest tests with this batch of serum now. That’s nearly twenty vials of serum we need to destroy! Twenty! At least the congressmen will be delighted. They always rejoice at the chance to accuse me of being a Nazi spy. You’d think they would come up with more creative insults by now. Doctor Niehaus, come over here, I need a second opinion on these numbers.” 

“Of course,” Cosima said, clearing her throat as she rose to walk over to Erskine--and then she stopped, suddenly aware that she _couldn’t_ clear her throat.

“Cosima?” 

She tried to take a breath, to just get some air, but she couldn’t, the air wasn’t _there,_ just hot liquid, choking liquid, _drowning_ liquid, and she felt her legs give way as she reached out blindly, panicked thoughts skittering through her mind as she tried to beg _help me, please, someone, anyone--_

For the briefest moment, Cosima felt warm hands on her arms, supporting her, promising her safety. For a fraction of an instant, she looked and saw Delphine. 

Then Cosima’s eyes rolled back and she began to seize.

“Get help!” Delphine shouted as Cosima twisted and jerked in her arms, slowly lowering the convulsing woman to the ground even as her voice was choked with panic. _“Now!”_

She grabbed the lab coat Cosima had left on the back of her chair, not bothering to look and see if Erskine had listened to her. Her entire focus was Cosima, Cosima who shouldn’t be showing symptoms like this, Cosima whose eyes had gone glassy, Cosima who was so pale but had blood that was so bright staining her cheek, running down her chin, _Cosima--_

With steady hands, she turned Cosima onto her side and put the lab coat under Cosima’s head as a kind of pillow, not flinching as one of Cosima’s flailing arms caught her in the chest.

_“Where is the help?”_ she shouted instead, eyes fixed on Cosima’s lifeless eyes, the blood leaking from Cosima’s mouth, all the signs that Cosima was not there, that Cosima might not come back. 

No cavalry broke down the door. No doctor strode in with the confidence of a god and a miracle drug.

Cosima continued to twist and wheeze. Delphine could do nothing but watch.

“Shh…” she whispered, perfectly aware that Cosima couldn’t hear her, but also that she had to do something. “Shh, Cosima, _ma cherie,_ it...it’s all right. It will all be all right. You will be all right. You understand? You hear me?” 

One of Cosima’s arms spasmed violently, and Delphine gently stroked it, feeling the muscles tighten and relax under Cosima’s skin. 

“Cosima,” she whispered like a prayer, thinking about the words she was saying and not the terrible groans and gurgles Cosima was making. “Cosima, _ma cherie, mon amour,_ I am here, I am here and I will never leave. _Écoutez-moi._ I will never leave you.”

She nearly sobbed with relief as the fits slowly began to subside. Gently, even though she knew Cosima was deeply unconscious, she pressed two fingers into Cosima’s neck, grounding herself in the steady beat.

It was then that, finally, medics burst through the doors, Erskine in tow.

_“Where the hell were you?”_ she spat, arms tightening instinctively around Cosima’s body before logical thought took over and she let them pull Cosima away. “She was seizing for at least three minutes, her airway is clear but there is blood, she has a respiratory condition but she may have bit her tongue, you need to check--” 

She ran down the hall with the medics, fingers still pressed to Cosima’s pulse point and shouting orders until they began loading Cosima into the ambulance and a paramedic stepped in front of her.

“Family only, miss, step back--” 

“Family? _Family?_ I--” 

“Delphine, _Delphine.”_

“Get off,” she snarled as strong hands grabbed her and pulled her away. “Let go--” 

_“Delphine!”_ Howard shouted, and she stopped, glaring at him.

“Howard--” 

“They won’t let you go with her. You know that. Let me take you. Jarvis can drive just as quickly as any ambulance.” 

“I can’t leave her. I _won’t_ leave her.” 

“We’ll get you to her,” Howard said, pulling her toward the parking lot. “Come on.”

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Cosima woke up feeling like she’d lost a fight with three semi trucks and with Delphine’s hand warm around her wrist, two fingers resting on her pulse point.

“What…” 

“Cosima?” Delphine leaned forward. “Are you awake, _ma cherie?”_

“Kinda wish I wasn’t,” she muttered, wincing as she rubbed her forehead. “What happened?”

“You collapsed in the lab,” Delphine explained, gently rubbing Cosima’s arm. “You had a seizure.”

“Seizure? That’s new,” she said, as brightly as she could. Her breathing was heavy and labored, like she’d been running a marathon instead of lying in bed. Delphine offered her a glass of water, supporting Cosima’s head and helped her drink.

“You need to rest.” 

“What time is it?” Cosima asked instead of acknowledging that, putting on her glasses. “I couldn’t have been asleep that long.”

“It’s just after six,” Delphine said, setting the now-empty glass on the bedside table. “It takes time to recover from a seizure.” 

“Six pm? Shit,” she sighed, coughing weakly. “I’m supposed to be home by now.”

“Don’t you dare,” Delphine warned as Cosima started to push herself up. “You need to rest, Cosima.”

“My family’s going to freak out.”

“You have to stay here overnight,” Delphine argued. “What would worry your family more, if you were away from home for a night, or if you had another seizure at home?”

“You can’t promise I’ll have a seizure.” 

“I can’t promise that you won’t.”

“Fine,” Cosima sighed, unwilling to admit that she felt far too exhausted to make it home anyway. “But only because you asked so sweetly.”

“Thank you,” Delphine said, kissing Cosima’s inner arm. Cosima smiled, raising her hand to stroke Delphine’s hair. “I will be back in the morning, all right _ma cherie?”_

“Wait,” Cosima said, “Will you do something for me?” 

“Of course,” Delphine said without hesitation.

“Can you go tell my family I’m okay?”

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Helena pulled the door open slowly, barely poking her frizzy blonde head around the door.

“We don’t buy things here.”

“Oh, um…” Delphine stood just outside the doorway. “It’s Helena, isn’t it?”

“It might be.”

“I’m looking for Mrs. Sadler,” Delphine explained, Helena still staring emotionlessly at her. “Cosima sent me to deliver a message, to explain why she isn’t here?”

“Well then.” Helena seemed to slide around the edge of the door as she pulled it open more widely. “Please. Enter. And eat.” 

“Thank you.” Delphine stepped hesitantly over the threshold, coming face to face with a visibly pregnant and glaring woman. “Hello. Sarah, is that right?”

“Delphine. I guess you’re why my sister isn’t home?”

“Not exactly. May I speak to Mrs. Sadler?” 

“Yes you may, love.” The Irish woman came out of what must have been the kitchen, drying her hands on a dishtowel. “You had something to say to me?”

“Yes,” Delphine said, “Cosima asked me to give you a message.”

“Did she now? And where is Cosima now?”

“The hospital. She’s all right,” she added quickly, choosing not to add _for now._ “She collapsed at work, and is being monitored. I believe they will release her in the morning.”

“She collapsed?” Sarah stepped forward, Helena just behind her. “What do you mean, collapsed?”

“She--she fainted, in the lab. She had a bit of a fever. But she will be all right.”

“This is ‘cos of that cold, then?” 

“Yes,” Delphine answered without hesitation. “But she was improving when I left her.” 

“Right. That’s all she said?” Sarah crossed her arms, clearly skeptical.

“That’s all.” 

“Don’t badger the poor girl, Sarah,” Mrs. S interrupted. “If that’s all she can tell us, that’s all. You tell Cosima that she’s to come straight here when she gets out, understand? Work be damned.”

“Yes,” Delphine said, nodding quickly. “I’ll be sure to bring her here when she is discharged.”

“Right then.” Mrs. S seemed satisfied, even if Sarah was still glaring daggers at Delphine. “Well, Delphine, isn’t it? Would you like to stay for dinner?”

“No, that’s all right. I should get back to the lab. Thank you, Mrs. Sadler.” Mrs. S smiled, surprisingly gentle.

“You go do what you have to, Delphine.”

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------

The lab was deserted and silent, save for Delphine’s quiet breathing. She bent over the microscope, hands clenched on the table as she stared at a slide of liver tissue without seeing it.

Nothing to be done.

Cosima was sleeping a few streets away, in the best hospital in New York, her own body turned against her as cancer spread through her like a creeping vine, flowering in her lungs and smothering her as it did.

And there was nothing to be done.

Nothing Delphine could do.

She grabbed the slide off the microscope and threw it into the wall, the glass shattering on impact before falling to the ground with almost-melodious chimes. Delphine sank to the ground and out of view of Starks’ cameras, hugging herself as she began to shake, and then to cry.

The seizure could have been caused by anything. A reaction to the drugs, a sudden fever spike, not enough glucose in her blood, something unrelated to the disease spreading through her.

Or it could mean that the growths had spread, were pressing down on that beautiful brain and the delicate neurons that made it, that made Cosima _Cosima,_ and that Delphine could do nothing but sit back and watch her wilt. 

She didn’t know, which meant she couldn’t act.

Which meant she couldn’t save Cosima.

Out of the corner of her eye she spotted a small smear of red against the white tile, a spot that the cleaners who were in earlier must’ve missed.

Cosima’s blood.

Delphine was moving almost immediately. She grabbed a handful of alcohol wipes and bent down, scrubbing at the small drop until it disappeared, and then after that, as if cleaning for long enough would make everything bad go away.

After her hands began to cramp and the floor was likely cleaner than it had ever been, Delphine settled back so she was kneeling on the floor instead of hunched on all fours and sighed heavily, dropping the wasted wipes on the floor. 

She found herself face to face with a small locked refrigerator, bright blue vials of serum shimmering through the glass door.

They were test samples that should’ve been destroyed by now. In all the chaos following Cosima’s collapse, Erskine had apparently forgotten to do so. 

The samples were good. They’d been effective in all of the mice. The two mouse deaths were caused less by the serum, and more by the fact that Howard’s automatic water dish filling mechanism had malfunctioned in their cages, the high metabolism caused by the serum meaning they died before anyone noticed the dry dishes. But two mice had still died while receiving the treatment, so they were required by regulation to destroy the samples.

It was _effective_ serum, serum that had properties like increasing strength and boosting the immune system.

Serum that suppressed abnormal cell growth.

Serum that was going to be thrown away.

She glanced up at one of Howard’s cameras, mounted so that it faced the storage refrigerator, and then at the unmonitored hallway leading from the lab to the incinerator.

The serum gleamed.

Delphine made her decision.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Cosima woke up coughing.

She shut her eyes reflexively as she wheezed, and felt a pair of hands roughly pull her upright so she was sitting up, rather than flat on her back. She pressed a hand to her chest as her breathing slowly eased, relieved to realize that she didn’t taste blood this time.

“Here.” A glass of water was shoved into her hands and she took it automatically, blinking.

“Thanks,” she wheezed, before squinting up at her benefactor. _“Sarah?”_

“Evening,” Sarah quipped as Cosima put her glasses on. “Or morning, I guess.” 

“It’s the middle of the night, how did you get in here?” 

“I’m pregnant,” Sarah shrugged, sitting on the edge of the bed and turning to face Cosima. “Nobody questions a pregnant woman in a hospital.” 

“Why are you here?” Cosima asked, and she saw Sarah’s eyes harden into a glare.

“Your girlfriend’s a shite liar.” 

“W-what do you mean?” Cosima took another sip of water, doing her best to feign nonchalance. 

“A cold and a fever, and they’re keeping you in overnight?” Sarah scoffed, folding her arms. “Come on. I knew that was crap the minute Frenchie opened her mouth. So what’s going on?” 

“Sarah…” 

“Tell me,” Sarah snapped, and Cosima saw the thread of fear underneath Sarah’s anger. “What the hell are you trying to keep from us? This isn’t a cold, is it?” 

“I…” Cosima sighed, already tired again “You’re right. It’s not a cold. It’s...it’s a lung thing. It’s pretty serious.” 

“Are you gonna be alright?” Sarah was no longer throwing the questions at Cosima like an interrogator, instead sounding--for the first time in ages--like nothing but a worried sister.

“Yeah, Sarah, of course.” Cosima reached forward, impulsively taking Sarah’s hand. “Delphine’s working on it. I’ve even got Howard Stark paying for the bills. I’ll be fine.” 

“This job with Stark,” Sarah said, wrapping her hand around Cosima’s. “You work on something a little more serious than product development or whatever crap you’ve been feeding us, don’t you?” 

“Kinda,” Cosima admitted, making them both laugh, Cosima’s laughter significantly breathier than Sarah’s. Sarah stopped suddenly, pressing a hand to her stomach. 

“Sarah?” Cosima was instantly alert, already halfway to calling a nurse. “You okay?” 

“Yeah, I…” She rubbed her stomach for another moment. “I think the baby’s moving.” 

“Oh, woah.” Cosima leaned forward, both she and Sarah staring at Sarah’s swollen belly. “Can I…?” she asked, gesturing toward Sarah’s stomach. Sarah nodded and Cosima carefully laid her hand on Sarah’s stomach. “I don’t feel anything,” she said after a moment, doing her best to hide her disappointment. “She’s probably too small for anyone else to feel yet.” 

“God, I don’t know how you can’t feel her. She’s a damn monkey like you,” Sarah muttered, still absentmindedly rubbing her stomach. “Think it’s saying that her Auntie Cos is a dumbass.” 

“Hey!” 

“It’s also saying you damn well better be around when it comes out,” Sarah added, looking Cosima in the eye as she did so.

“Yeah,” Cosima said, softening as she met Sarah’s gaze. “You tell it that I will be.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, the angst is back in full force, and I am back on my regular updating schedule. As always, please do tell me what you thought in the comments, and a massive massive thanks to everyone who's done so already--it really does make my day and make me write.
> 
> You can always find me on tumblr at probablytatiana.
> 
> Thank you all so much for reading!


	9. Nine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for: Discussions of illness, war, and death

The next morning, Cosima discharged herself as soon as she woke and spent a grand total of three hours outside of the hospital before returning for her radiation and drug treatments, which Stark was starting to call “chemotherapy.” 

“You know, I’d almost managed to get the smell of rubbing alcohol out of my nose,” Cosima complained as Delphine wiped a biting-cold square of gauze soaked in the pungent liquid over the inside of Cosima’s elbow. 

“I don’t think I’ve ever been without it,” Delphine commented, palpating Cosima’s elbow before sliding the needle into a vein. “My father always brought his work home, so the house always smelled like it, and I started helping him out when I was very little. I’m sure even my blood smells of it by now.” 

“Your dad was a doctor?” 

“Yes,” Delphine said as she taped the IV in place. Cosima tilted her head to watch the brightly colored liquid begin dripping into the tube, and then flow into her body. “A scientist and researcher, as well. I began exploring his lab as soon as I could walk.” 

“Damn, you started earlier than I did,” Cosima laughed. “I started catching bugs and frogs and asking all those annoying questions kids do when I was like, four, but I didn’t manage to step foot in a lab until I was six. And that was because I ran off while my mom and I were supposed to be waiting for my dad.” 

“Why am I not surprised?” Delphine teased, perching on the edge of Cosima’s bed and holding Cosima’s hand in her lap. “Your father was a scientist too, then?” 

“Yeah, a paleontologist. I was supposed to stay in his office and then just...didn’t. He’s kind of the whole reason why I got into science in the first place. When he found me in the lab, I must’ve been missing for a couple hours at that point, but he didn’t chew me out or anything like that, just asked me what I was looking at. I made him explain all his research to me and show me all the fossils. It took about an hour and Mom went ballistic on both of us when we finally finished and went to find her.” 

“Your father sounds like a very good man,” Delphine said softly, rubbing gentle circles on the back of Cosima’s hand.

“He was. Things were never really the same after he died.” Cosima sighed. The heavy weight of her father’s death never really went away, even though she’d lived more of her life without him than with him. “What about your dad?” 

“He was a brilliant scientist, a good doctor, and a kind man,” Delphine recited, looking at Cosima’s hand instead of her eyes. “Mostly alone, since Maman died when we were young, but he made do and was very loving. He...passed away, as well.” 

“I’m sorry,” Cosima said, unsure of what else to say after something like that. “He sounds great.”

“He was,” Delphine said with a shrug, not elaborating. “And this is all a conversation too heavy to be having so early in the morning.” 

“We’re in a hospital room. I feel like the mood’s heavy enough as it is,” Cosima joked.

“Yes, but we do not need to make it heavier,” Delphine replied. “How are you feeling?” 

“Terrific,” Cosima said. “No, seriously, I feel fine,” she added at Delphine’s raised eyebrows. “Still kind of sore after yesterday, and tired obviously, but getting out for a while helped. I don’t think I’m going to fall over and start acting possessed again, if that’s what you’re worried about.” 

“I am worried about a lot of things,” Delphine said, “But hopefully you will not have any more seizures. I’ve adjusted the drugs you’re getting, and added some anti-seizure medication--” 

“What, without consulting me?” Cosima sat up straighter and pulled her hand away from Delphine, her tone a bit sharp. “Delphine, this stuff is going into my body, I deserve to know what’s in it.” 

“Of course,” Delphine said quickly, “The decisions were made quickly, while you were still recovering--” 

“I still need to know,” Cosima said, glaring up at the IV bottle. “Can you tell me what drugs are in this cocktail, at least?” 

“I’ll bring you a list,” Delphine said after a barely-noticeable hesitation. “I can have it ready by the time I come back after work, all right _ma cherie?”_

“Speaking of work, you’ve gotta pass a message on to Stark for me,” Cosima added. “Tell him if he thinks a little seizure means he can ditch me as a consultant, he’s got another thing coming. Those two mice dying have set us back far enough. If we run into any more delays, Erskine might blow a gasket. Literally.” 

“I’ll tell him,” Delphine laughed, pressing a quick kiss to Cosima’s lips as she stood to leave. “I will be back in an hour to disconnect you from this, and have the list for you by the end of the day, okay _ma cherie?”_

“Alright,” Cosima said, settling back in her pillows and getting ready to ‘enjoy’ an hour of watching drugs drip into her body. “Hey, does the stuff in the bottle look bluer than usual to you?”

“What?” Delphine turned back, a confused expression already on her face. “I don’t think so.”

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Delphine, you destroyed those serum samples yesterday, right?” Howard called across the lab.

“Yes,” she said, “I came back to the lab late last night, and I did it then.” 

“Why were you here so late?” Only Howard’s legs were visible as he spoke, the rest of him hidden underneath his absurdly large mouse-watering machine. He was convinced he could fix it, while Erskine on the other side of the lab muttered under his breath and worked to recreate the serum they’d had to throw out.

“I couldn’t sleep,” Delphine said simply, hands steady as she prepared a few slides with the remaining blood samples from the dead mice.

“Right.” Howard slid out from underneath his contraption and looked up at Delphine. “How is Cosima?”

“She’s stable.” Delphine sounded like she was talking about the weather. “She’s back on her usual regime of drugs and radiation today. They will hopefully prove more effective now than they were.”

“She’ll be alright,” Howard said, sitting up on the floor. “Niehaus is a fighter. How are her numbers?”

“If you want the data, just ask.” Delphine sketched a few notes as she looked over the slides. “The deal was that you get access to her data in exchange for paying for the treatments. You don’t need to dance around the question.”

“Just get me her file when you have a chance.” Howard paused, staring at the way Delphine’s hands very determinedly did not shake as she worked and she didn’t look up from her microscope. “Seriously, is she gonna be alright?”

“Yes.” Delphine didn’t hesitate in her answer, and her gaze did not flicker toward the empty refrigerator that once held vials of serum. “Yes she will.”

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------

“C’mon.”

“No.” 

“Delphine…” 

“Cosima, no,” Delphine laughed, ducking out of the way of Cosima’s hand as the brunette tried to grab the edge of Delphine’s lab coat. “Scott will be by in two hours for your next radiation treatment, we don’t have time.” 

“So Scotty will have to wait a little while. He won’t complain.” 

“You are not supposed to leave the hospital so soon after a treatment.”

“So smuggle me out. Live a little, Delphine, c’mon.” 

“It’s risky.” 

“So is everything else.” Cosima sat up in the bed and managed to grab Delphine’s hand, pulling the tall women closer. “It’s been four days, Delphine, no seizures or anything, and I feel great. Plus I’m bored.” Delphine sighed, not quite managing to hide a small smile. “Delphine, please.” 

“All right,” Delphine gave in, and Cosima grinned in delight. “But only for one movie. No more than two hours.” 

“Ma’am, yes, ma’am,” Cosima said brightly, swinging her legs over the side of the bed and hopping to her feet. Delphine smiled and passed Cosima a folded dress to change into. 

“We will return if you get tired--” 

“We’ll also return if the sky falls. Stop worrying and lets go,” Cosima said, pulling her hair out from under the collar of her dress before closing the last few buttons. 

“All right,” Delphine laughed, passing Cosima her shoes. “But we must hurry. There are some back stairs we can use without being seen.”

“Look at you, being a proper criminal.” Cosima stepped into her shoes before stepping up to take Delphine’s hand. “Come on, let’s go.” 

Delphine squeezed Cosima’s hand and they both crept toward the door, looking up and down the hospital hallway until they were sure it was empty.

“Okay, the cost is clear,” Cosima whispered. “Where are these back stairs of yours?”

“Down the hall and to the left,” Delphine whispered back, as if they were planning a bank heist rather than a lunch date.

“Okay. Operation Have-A-Decent-Date is a go. Make a break for the stairs on three...two...one.” 

Cosima’s hand tightened around Delphine’s and they both ran for the stairs, giggling like little girls in a way they hadn’t had a chance to in far too long, slipping through the door to the back stairs and shutting it securely behind them, laughing breathlessly.

“Are you all right?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine,” Cosima said, a little breathlessly. She coughed twice, but lightly and without blood, to the relief of both of them. “Like I said, I feel great. Just maybe no more running.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yeah, come on.” Cosima was still gasping a little breathlessly, but she shot Delphine a reassuring smile. “Besides, if anything goes wrong, I’ve got the world’s best doctor by my side.”

“You flatterer,” Delphine laughed, but she relaxed enough to let Cosima pull her along down the stairs and edge out through the side exit, hands still entwined. 

Delphine didn’t stop tossing concerned looks toward Cosima every time she had to stop for breath or coughed into her elbow, but Cosima was feeling well enough to pretend not to notice.

“What film is it you wanted to see?”

“Oh, um, that whole thing about there’s this film I’ve heard is the best ever and we have to go see it? Kind of a lie to get you to let me out.” 

“Cosima…” 

“Hey, we can buy tickets at the door. There’s probably something there that will fit your strict requirements of ‘less than two hours.’”

You are incorrigible,” Delphine said, shaking her head fondly. 

“And cute too.” 

Out on the street, their joined hands didn’t warrant a second look from any of the passerby. They were friends headed to the pictures, nothing more, friends that walked close enough that their shoulders bumped, friends that didn’t have eyes for anyone but each other, friends that held onto each other tightly, like they were afraid to let go.

The cinema was a short walk from the hospital, easily managed even with Cosima’s lungs occasionally deciding to stop working and making them both pause for a moment.

“Are you--” 

“Delphine, if you finish that sentence,” Cosima threatened, taking a deep breath before beginning to climb the last stairs up to the cinema doors. “We’re here, we’re gonna enjoy a picture. I’m gonna treat you to a proper date and kiss you silly in the back row.” 

“So you do have some romance in you.” 

“I mean, you’re risking me getting blood on that pretty white dress of yours, but yeah.” Cosima leaned into Delphine, nudging the taller woman off-balance and making Delphine laugh softly despite herself. “I’m romantic as hell.” 

Delphine insisted on paying for the tickets, dampening Cosima’s romantic fire a bit, but Cosima bought the popcorn and, as she insisted, got them two seats in the very back row.

“Here,” she said, holding up a kernel in front of Delphine’s face.

“Cosima, you cannot be serious--” 

“Say ‘ah,’” Cosima insisted, waving the piece back and forth. 

“You are ridiculous,” Delphine murmured, but Cosima only grinned, moving the kernel toward Delphine’s mouth and away. “Cosima.” 

“You want the popcorn? Come get the popcorn.” 

“There is a bucket right between us. I can get my own popcorn.” 

“But this one’s a good piece. And it’s alll yours--” 

Delphine leaned forward suddenly, her lips closing gently around Cosima’s fingertips as she gripped the piece in her teeth and tugged it into her mouth. 

“Damn,” Cosima said, a little shakily, as Delphine sat up, licking her lips and smiling. “How the hell did you manage to make that arousing?” 

“It’s not my fault,” Delphine said simply. “I’m French.” She reach into the popcorn bucket and pulled out a kernel, balancing it between her thin fingers and holding it in front of Cosima’s face, a teasing smile on her face. “Say ‘ah.’”

Cosima leaned forward and let Delphine feed her the popcorn, nipping Delphine’s fingers gently as she did so. She grinned at Delphine’s quick intake of breath, swallowing the popcorn kernel with relish.

“I thought the kissing was to come during the movie,” Delphine murmured, picking up another kernel to offer to Cosima. “If you keep this up, I don’t know how patient I can be.” 

“It’s not my fault,” Cosima whispered back, leaning in so that their foreheads nearly touched. “You’re French.” 

“Cosima, we are in public,” Delphine said as Cosima pressed closer. “If we are seen we’ll be arrested.” 

“So we won’t be seen.” 

“Cosima--” 

The blare of the first strains of the national anthem cut through the mood as the pre-picture newsreel began. Both Cosima and Delphine sat up straighter, watching the black and white images of the battlefield began rolling across the screen.

“War continues to ravage Europe…” 

Cosima stiffened as she stared at the scenes of soldiers in the trenches and the dead and dying men being carried away. 

“But help is on the way!” 

“Just start the movie!” A loud male voice--sounding surprisingly like the major who’d catcalled Delphine her first day of work--rang out through the theater. Low murmurs washed through the building and Cosima scowled. 

“Every able-bodied man is lining up to serve his country. Even little Timmy--”

“I’m not payin’ to watch this!” 

“Hey, asshat!” Cosima stood up, hands on her hips. “Wanna shut up?”

“Watch your tone little miss!” 

“Our brave boys are showing the Axis Powers--” 

Cosima grit her teeth at the images of men hauling broken bodies out of ambulances, of men who must have been moaning and crying, and the jeering of the man in the audience.

She channeled her inner Sarah Manning.

“The price of freedom is never too high.” 

“Why don’t you meet me out back and make me, huh?”

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------

“This is some date,” Delphine commented dryly as she stood in the grubbly alleyway behind the movie theater, arms crossed over her chest.

“Should’ve known he’d be too chicken to come and face me. All big bark and no bite, huh? Bet he’s like that in bed too!”

“Cosima, he can’t hear you.” 

“It’s the thought that counts,” Cosima grumbled, stopping her pacing through the alley to sigh and slump against one of the grimy walls.

“There are asshats like that in every theater,” Delphine commented, her accent curling around the unfamiliar vulgarity and making it sound softer than when it came out of Cosima’s mouth. “Why are you so irritated with him?”

“He was especially asshatty,” Cosima said. Delphine’s raised eyebrow told Cosima that explanation wasn’t going to be enough. “Look, those weren’t just images of soldiers, you know? It’s not like a movie. They’re actual people, actually suffering and dying, and for us. For him, and he’s just acting like it’s nothing, and they’re inconveniencing him. For saving him.”

“There’s something more,” Delphine said. “Something making you angrier.” 

“Mrs. S got a letter a couple days ago,” Cosima admitted softly, eyes darting away from Delphine’s. “One of her friends--someone like her brother, according to her--died. Fighting this war. She’s got other friends resistance fighting in Europe too, that she doesn’t talk about really, but who haven’t...all she says about them is that she hasn’t heard from them in a while. The house hasn’t been the same since she got the letter, though.”

Delphine’s stance softened as she watched Cosima look down the hallway instead of at her, shoulders hunched defensively. 

“I’m sorry.” 

“I didn’t even lose anyone. I didn’t know him. But it feels like I’ve lost Mrs. S now, you know? It’s real people out there. Real people getting hurt and real people dying. It’s why we’ve gotta end this war. It’s why we’ve gotta win this war. This serum’s our best hope against HItler, so I’m gonna do my best to make it work, cancer be damned, because I want this war to end. I don’t want anybody losing any more brothers. I don’t want my family to lose anyone else.”

Delphine crossed the alleyway in a few easy strides and put her hands on either side of Cosima’s face, giving Cosima only a moment to register Delphine’s sudden closeness before Delphine was kissing her soundly and deeply. Cosima was all too happy to respond in kind, letting the smell of Delphine’s perfume, the smell of roses and wine and something Cosima imagined smelled the way a sunny French afternoon looked (and that was surely a sign that Cosima was well and truly head over heels for Delphine--that thought was almost poetic) overwhelm the rank scents of the alleyway. 

Cosima wrapped her arms around Delphine, her hands ending up just between the taller woman’s shoulder blades. She pulled Delphine closer as best she could, gasping softly into the kiss as Delphine gently nipped at her lower lip. 

That was when Cosima’s reduced lung capacity interfered and she had to duck out of the way of Delphine’s next kiss, panting. 

“What was that for?” she gasped, looking up into Delphine’s wide, warm eyes. 

“You’re very cute when you’re patriotic,” Delphine explained, her own breathing a little heavy. 

“Yeah?” Cosima gasped, managing a small grin. “I’ll wear red, white, and blue every day if this is what happens when I do.” 

“Cheeky girl,” Delphine murmured, kissing Cosima once more. “We should go back to the hospital, ma cherie.” 

“We’ve only been out for an hour,” Cosima complained, doing her best to regulate her breathing.

“Yes, but you are tired,” Delphine said, pressing the back of her hand to Cosima’s forehead. “And feverish.”

“And I have a hot date with a radiation machine,” Cosima sighed before pushing herself off the alley wall and linking her arm through Delphine’s. “If it helps, baby, she’s nowhere near as sweet as you.”

“My entire life, I have worried about how I would compare to a radiation machine. Thank you for the reassurance, _ma cherie.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A few hours late, but here it is! Let me now what you think in the comments, or chat with me about anything on tumblr at probablytatiana :)


	10. Ten

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for: casual use of LGBT slurs ("queer," "dyke") by LGBT people, cooking, and discussions of illness and the army/the war.

“Mrs. S, I’m home,” Cosima called, closing the door behind her and shrugging out of her jacket as she did. The early May air was barely crisp, but some of Delphine’s paranoia had rubbed off onto Cosima at some point, and the barest hint of chill seemed to bite into her anyway. 

“S went out,” Felix announced, touching up his makeup as he walked down the hall. 

“And you are too, huh?” Cosima asked, noting his fancier-than-usual clothes and the way he kept fussing with his hair. “Don’t tell me, Colin’s got the night off.” 

“Morgue attendants rarely get the night off, can you blame me for wanting to make a night of it?”

“I’m sorry that people just keep dying and interfering with your dating.” 

“It really is just bloody inconvenient,” he joked back, running his fingers through his hair one more time. “Right. How do I look?” 

“Like a queer.” 

“God, dykes are mean,” he quipped. Cosima only grinned, and Felix grinned right back. “I’m serious. I’m taking him out somewhere nice, where the food is good and the people don’t ask questions.” 

“You really like this guy, don’t you?” Cosima asked, reaching out to straighten the lapels on Felix’s coat. 

“He’s not like the other guys,” Felix said, and it would’ve been a cliche line if it wasn’t for the clear adoration in his eyes. Cosima hmmed, encouraging him to continue. “Colin’s just...he’s sweet. In a genuine way, not like basically every other guy. He’s good, and I have no idea how I ended up with a guy like him.” 

“You two are good together.” 

“The rest of the world doesn’t think so.” 

“The rest of the world is blind,” Cosima said fiercely, before glancing up and patting her younger foster brother on the arm. “I’m happy for you, Felix.” 

“Do you think we’ll make it?” Felix asked, quite and vulnerable, so unlike his usual flamboyant self. “Honestly, queer to queer, two people who actually know what it’s like and how hard it is. Do you think Colin and I honestly stand a chance?”

“I think you guys are young, and I know you can be an idiot,” Cosima said, laughing at Felix’s offended snort. “But yeah, I do. I really do.” 

“Thanks, sis,” Felix said, enfolding her in a brief hug. 

“Go, don’t miss your date,” she told him. “Your hair looks fine! Go!” she added when he tried to duck into the bathroom once more to check his hair. 

“See you in the morning!” 

“Oh, you better be back before then,” Cosima scolded, only half-seriously. Felix just waved as he sauntered away.

Cosima chuckled to herself as she shut the door behind him, coughing into her handkerchief once the door was shut. Wiping her lips and tucking the handkerchief into an inside pocket, she ducked into the kitchen, and nearly ran into Helena. 

“Hey, Helena, what’s up?” 

“I am cooking,” she said simply, arms wrapped possessively around a mixing bowl.

“I can see that. Why don’t you let me help you?” Cosima suggested, reaching out and grabbing the entire week’s sugar ration Helena was about to pour into the bowl. 

“Mrs. Sadler is out,” Helena said, watching Cosima with wary eyes as Cosima reached into the cabinet, pulling out a few cans. “I did not want Sarah to be hungry.”

“Are you hungry?” Cosima asked gently, looking up from where she was dumping a can of spaghetti into a pot. 

“I am worried about Sarah,” Helena said, reaching into the spaghetti can and snatching a noodle that’d clung to the side while Cosima pretended not to watch. 

“Sarah’s a big girl,” Cosima said neutrally, setting two rolls left over from the night before on the counter and deliberately turning away. “I’m sure she’ll eat when she’s hungry.” 

“Sarah is not here,” Helena muttered, ripping apart one of the rolls as she spoke. “She does not want me as her sestra.” 

“That’s not true,” Cosima said, dumping tomato sauce into the pot and stirring it around. “I think she loves you, but she doesn’t know how to show it.”

“She does not look at me,” Helena said around a mouthful of roll, not looking at Cosima. “She is afraid.” 

“She’s worried,” Cosima corrected gently, turning to look directly at Helena. Helena deliberately looked down at the second roll she was mutilating, but frequent glances upward showed she was listening to Cosima’s every word. “Hey, does Sarah worry about you when you only eat sugary foods? Or when you don’t sleep enough? She tries to teach you things too, right? Social niceties and things?”

Helena nodded slowly, meeting Cosima’s gaze for longer stretches of time. 

“That’s love, Helena. She’s bad at showing it, but she loves us.” 

“Love is for children,” Helena mumbled, most of the second roll stuffed into her cheeks.

“That’s crap. Love is for everyone.” Cosima turned back to the stove and started to stir the pasta. “Even--” 

Her breath stuttered, and the spoon clattered to the ground as Cosima used one hand to muffle her cough, the other hand fumbling for her handkerchief. She didn’t see Helena move, but suddenly all she could see was frizzy blonde hair as Helena pushed her to the ground, nudging Cosima so she was sitting upright. Cosima managed to pull out her handkerchief and cough into it. She tried to stuff it back into her pocket before Helena noticed, but she doubted Helena missed anything. 

“You are sick.” 

“It’s nothing. Really.” 

“It is not nice to lie, _sestra.”_

“I’ll be fine,” Cosima said, reaching out slowly, letting Helena see her hand coming, before laying it gently on Helena’s shoulder. “Promise, Helena.” 

“What’s on fire?” Tony shouted, running into the kitchen. Cosima and Helena looked up to see the pot of spaghetti smoking on the stove. 

“Oh _shit!”_

It wasn’t until later, when the fire was put out and all three of them were sitting around the kitchen table, chewing on cold sausages and bits of blackened spaghetti, that Cosima realized that Helena had, for the first time, called her sister.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Delphine, you’ve gotta rest sometime.”

“I rest plenty,” Delphine replied, not even looking up at Howard from the notes she was taking. 

“Did you even leave the lab last night?”

Delphine didn’t respond. 

“Delphine--” 

“I do good work, Howard, and it helps you, so there is no need for you to pretend to be worried about my health.”

“I don’t want you going half-mad with sleep deprivation and setting us behind,” Howard quipped back. “It’s valuable stuff, you know.” 

“I know.” Delphine pulled out a stack of files and began cross checking data points. “Which is why I am working so hard.” 

“Doctor Niehaus’s numbers are good,” Howard commented, seemingly out of the blue. Delphine didn’t react. “Strangely good. Especially after that scare last week.” 

“She is recovering well,” Delphine said simply. “Which is good, as we need her insight for this project to succeed.” 

“Very true, very true. Of course, we also need the serum.” 

“What are you saying, Howard?” Delphine does look up at that, meeting Howard’s gaze without any trace of guilt or fear. 

Without any trace of emotion at all.

“I’m saying,” Howard said, eyes serious but voice light, as if they were having a simple conversation. “That Dr. Niehaus’s numbers are strangely good.” 

“Which is good for both of us.” 

“Delphine.” Howard dropped any pretense of joking or idle conversation. Delphine impassively continued to meet his gaze. “Why are you suddenly so invested?” 

“Does it matter?” Delphine countered. “You need me on this project, Howard. And I’m invested. That’s everything you could want, isn’t it?” 

“You know, when I picked you up off the streets of France, I was expecting you to do some science and get out of my life.” 

“And I was expecting Howard Stark to have aged well. I suppose we were both mistaken,” Delphine replied cooly. 

“Damnit, Delphine, this is serious.” Howard took a few steps closer, leaning in closer. “You know, if you’re in any trouble and I only find out about it later, I won’t protect you.” 

“I know.”

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Scott, seriously, just look. It’s been two weeks, we’ve gotten pretty close, just look at my boobs.”

“I-I can’t,” Scott stuttered, eyes fixed solidly on the radiation machine and not Cosima’s chest. “Besides, this system is working fine.” 

“The system involves you looking at my boobs in your peripheral vision and turning a job that would take thirty seconds into a five-minute ordeal.” 

“I-I’m a gentleman.” 

“Lucky for you, I’m not a lady,” Cosima quipped, laying back on the pillows. “Seriously. I’d rather have what little virtue I have left tarnished by your wandering eyes than watch you sputter and blush every day.” 

Scott just flushed red and finished aiming the radiation tube before turning it on.

“Don’t you ever get bored, aiming those machines all day, not looking at people’s chests?” 

“Bored isn't the word I’d use,” Scott said, leaning back as he waited for the machine to work. “I-its interesting science, you know? And it helps people. Makes them sick first, but it helps.” 

“Sick? I feel fine.” 

“Well, you’ve only been treated for, what, three weeks? 20 days? The worst symptoms set in after a few weeks, normally. You know, exhaustion, swelling or inflammation, pneumonia, that sort of thing.” 

“Pneumonia and swelling, but no big,” Cosima half-laughed. “How am I supposed to tell that apart from the cancer?” 

“I’ve never had cancer, so I couldn’t say,” Scott said awkwardly, shrugging. “I-it’s just what I hear from the other patients. But you’re…?” 

“Great,” Cosima finished for him. “We’ll see how long it lasts. Guess I’ll take advantage of it while it does, though. Work in the lab, see some good films, have a lot of _fun_ if you know what I mean,” she finished, adding a lewd eyebrow wiggle for good measure. 

“Aww, _jeeze,”_ Scott groaned, flushing, and Cosima laughed.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Cosima got home that night to the sound of glass shattering from her shared bedroom.

“Oh Jesus-- _Jesus,”_ she hissed, half-running to the bedroom. She was wheezing by the time she got there, cautiously pushing the door open. She knew the sounds of Sarah in crisis well by now, and was slightly afraid of what she would find.

Sarah stood at what had once been the vanity, hands clenched into fists on the wooden table. The mirror, makeup, and bits of Helena’s food that had been on the table sat in a shattered heap on the floor. Helena was hunched on the farthest corner of her bed, knees hugged tight to her chest as she watched her twin sister with wary eyes.

“Sarah…?” Cosima asked slowly, taking a few hesitant steps forward. “Sarah, what’s happened?”

Sarah kicked the vanity’s table, and the wood gave a frightening groan. 

_“Sestra_ is upset with _brat,”_ Helena whispered, looking anxiously at Cosima as if hoping Cosima would fix this.

“Brat? Like...the baby? Is something wrong with the baby?”

_“Felix_ is being a _fucking baby,”_ Sarah snarled, the table shaking as she kicked it again. “And a _bloody idiot_ and--” 

She kicked the table again, the vanity crumpling as one of its legs gave out entirely.

“Sarah, Sarah, just...calm down, okay?” Cosima took a few steps closer to her sister, careful not to touch her sister. Sarah was practically vibrating with something greater than rage. “What’s going on? You’re scaring Helena,” she added, more quietly. 

“Why don’t you ask _fucking Felix?”_ Sarah slammed her fist into the wall, hard enough to make both Cosima and Helena flinch and to break the skin on Sarah’s hand. “Shite,” she said, staring at her hand for a moment before storming out of the room, the sound of doors shutting hard enough to make the walls shake following her out of the house.

“Shit,” Cosima breathed, before hurrying over to Helena. “Hey, hey, are you okay?”

“Is _sestra_ going to come back?” Helena asked, sounding more frightened and childlike than she ever had before. Cosima crumpled like tissue paper, sitting down on Helena’s bed and wrapping her arms around the frightened woman. 

“I don’t know,” she said honestly, hating the way she could feel Helena trembling. “I don’t know, honey, but I’ve gotta go talk to Felix, okay? I need to find out what’s going on.”

Helena nodded, and Cosima impulsively pressed a quick kiss to her forehead before standing up to leave the room. 

“We’ll make cookies later, okay?”

Helena nodded again, hugging herself even tighter and looking away. Cosima’s heart ached for the blonde woman, but she had to find out what exactly seemed to have sent Sarah off the deep end.

She found Felix sitting on the understuffed couch in what passed for their living room, a manila folder in his hands and staring blankly ahead.

“Felix? What the hell is going on? Sarah just stormed out of here, more freaked out than I’ve ever seen her.”

“Yeah, I noticed. She’s kind of hard to miss like that.”

“What did you _do?_ I mean, I’m impressed, I can’t lie, but…” Her eyes dropped to the folder he was holding loosely in his hands. “What’s this?”

“It’s…” Felix sighed and held up the folder for Cosima to take. She opened it and skimmed it--basic information about name, citizenship, medical conditions--and then she saw the U.S. military logo.

And the bright red stamp proclaiming 1A in the bottom corner.

“What the hell is this, Felix?”

“What’s it look like, Cosima?”

“It looks a hell of a lot like papers saying you _signed up for the army.”_

“What do you know. Those big black glasses do work after all.” 

“Felix.” Cosima knelt in front of Felix so he was forced to meet her gaze. “You’re not even a citizen, you’re barely old enough. Why?” 

“Colin got his orders this morning,” Felix admitted.

“Colin--the guy you’re dating?” 

“He was so terrified, Cosima, he came to my studio in tears. I had to do _something.”_

“So you signed up yourself?”

“Christ, you sound like Sarah.” He buried his face in his hands and Cosima softened, moving so she was sitting on the couch next to him.

“Do you wanna talk about it?”

“No,” he snapped, running his hand through his hair. “I don’t know, maybe? I signed up so I could request what unit to be with. His unit. God, I don’t know. There’s nothing to talk about really, it’s done. I can’t exactly take it back.”

“Well, do you want to?”

“Not really. Christ, I don’t want to go to war. But you…” Felix turned so he was facing Cosima, looking her dead in the eye. “You remember how I asked you about us? Colin and me, I mean. You said you thought we had a chance. And then this stupid war comes along and tries to take whatever we have away. I just...I want to make sure we still have our chance. You know?”

“Yeah,” Cosima said, glancing away and thinking of cells rapidly dividing in her lungs, threatening to rip her from her work, her life, from everything she’d just begun. “Yeah, I get that.”

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Tony congratulated Felix on his enlistment with a slap on the back and a shout of “congratulations on finally using those balls you were lucky enough to be born with,” worry shining from his hazel eyes.

“If he’s not worth it, I’ll kill him myself,” he added later, when he’d gotten a moment alone with Felix. “He damn well better be worth it.” 

Felix had gone over to Alison’s to tell her himself, and she’d burst immediately into tears, pulling him inside and trying to give him self-defense tips through her sobs. He managed to slip away after she’d drunk half a bottle of wine and he promised to always go for the eyes and groin first.

“Take care of her,” he’d said softly to Donnie as he left. “She needs someone. Be that someone now.” 

Helena had been silent since Sarah had left, spirits dimmed enough that she didn’t even try to steal bites of cookie dough more than once while baking with Cosima. 

“Here,” she had said suddenly Felix had returned from Alison’s, startling everyone as she shoved an over-sugared cookie into Felix’s hand. “When you are in war, you must eat well. And return soon, with all arms and feet.”

He promised her that he would, and she wrapped him in a hug hard enough to very nearly bruise his ribs.

Mrs. S hadn’t shouted or cried when Felix told her, which some of them were expecting her to do. Instead she had looked up from his enlistment papers, looking older and sadder than she’d ever been.

“Well,” she said, voice full of defeat and her eyes glistening wet, “I suppose I couldn’t keep you all forever, could I?”

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------

By the next morning, Sarah still hadn’t come home.

Cosima skipped her radiation and chemotherapy appointments, and Delphine found her in the lab, crying next to several serum samples.

“We have to end this war, Delphine,” she half-sobbed, half-coughed, Delphine’s arms holding her tightly and keeping her grounded. “We have to.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things have really started moving...


	11. Eleven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for: Discussions of illness and illness-related drugs, and mouse autopsies.

“Why do these mice keep dying?” 

Cosima shoved the official reports on the deaths of mice 324 and b21 away from her, the papers escaping their clip and fluttering around the lab table.

“Cosima.” Delphine appeared at her side almost immediately, one of her hands warm on the back of Cosima’s neck. Usually this would placate the brunette, but today she shrugged it off and reach out to gather the scattered papers. 

“This doesn’t make any sense. I’ve checked the reports, their cages, even performed autopsies. It just looks like the serum worked perfectly, and then they just died. Another two mice are _dead.”_

“We’ll figure it out,” Delphine said. She didn’t try to touch her again, but Cosima could feel her concerned eyes on her back. “I’ll look over it all, fresh eyes, yes? Why don’t you take a break?”

“I don’t need a break,” Cosima replied automatically, rubbing a tired hand over her face. “I need to figure this out.” 

“You’re ill, Cosima,” Delphine said softly, and Cosima stiffened. “You’re stable for now, but you still need your rest.” 

“There are more important things.” 

Delphine backed off, though she stayed near Cosima as she worked. Cosima reorganized the papers and started reading through them again, pulling out the most recent sets of observations on the mice before they’d died in the hopes that they’d point to some sort of overdose or chemical imbalance.

Howard and Erskine were equally as absorbed in their work across the lab, eyes glued to microscopes and petri dishes as they tossed ideas back and forth without even looking up.

“It doesn’t make sense,” Cosima sighed again, having read through the entirety of the files again. “Hey, Stark! Do we still have the mouse corpses in the freezer?” 

“Third mini-fridge to the left,” he called back.

“Thanks.” Cosima slid off the lab stool and crossed over to the fridge, rummaging through Stark’s various prototypes that, for whatever reason nobody other than Stark understood, had to be kept frozen, to pull out two small tubs full of labelled mouse parts.

The mice had been autopsied by lab techs who hadn’t known Project Rebirth even existed--beneficial in avoiding bias, yes, but their best guess as to why the mice had died was that the mice had stopped breathing, which was fairly useless but also the only starting point they had. Cosima pulled on a pair of gloves and opened the containers, carefully lifting a pair of miniscule lungs and sliding them underneath the lens of a dissection microscope.

The lungs were fine, functionally perfect, no deformities or swellings. Larger than a normal mouse lung, yes, but that was an ordinary effect of the serum. There was nothing suggesting that they were anything other than perfectly working mouse lungs, other than the fact that they had stopped.

She sliced the lungs more thinly and slid one of the sections onto a glass slide, staining and washing it with contrast dye before squinting down at it and nearly growling in frustration.

The lung was perfect again. No warping, no twisting, just branches off the bronchi ending in countless clusters of perfect alveoli. 

She created another slide of lung cells and slid them underneath the microscope, finding the same results there. It was the same with every other slide, every other lung cell. Enhanced alveolus density, lungs at the absolute peak of health. 

Lungs that had _stopped._

“Cosima.” Warm hands, gentle even through the latex gloves that covered them, gently settled over Cosima’s own, stopping her from creating creating another slide. “Cosima, that’s enough.” 

“It’s not,” Cosima moaned, but she let Delphine pull her away from the microscope and gently pull off her gloves.

“You need to eat,” Delphine said, degloving herself before taking Cosima’s hand again and gently rubbing it with her thumb. “And you’re exhausted.” 

“I’m fine,” Cosima sighed, even as her eyes closed almost against her will. “I need to solve this.” 

“Even you cannot solve it in one day,” Delphine said, a small hint of teasing in her voice. “Erskine is going to take a look at the reports on the deaths of the mice, and you and I are going to go eat some lunch.” 

“Delphine…” 

“This project is not your responsibility, Cosima. Neither is your brother.” Delphine cut off Cosima’s objection with a well timed kiss, and Cosima felt her objections dying. “Your only responsibility is to get well. And you cannot do that without food.” 

“You just want to take me on a date,” Cosima said, a small smirk tugging on her lips as she let Delphine lead her out of the lab. 

“Maybe,” Delphine said with a small smile of her own. “But how can I be blamed, when it is a girl like you?” 

“You charmer.” Cosima and Delphine both shrugged out of their lab coats at the door, and Cosima entwined her fingers with Delphine’s as they walked out, leaning heavily into the taller woman as they walked.

“Are you all right?” 

“I’m…” Cosima hesitated, ready to reassure Delphine the way she’d been reassuring everyone else for weeks, but instead she found the truth coming out. “I’m so tired.” 

“I know,” Delphine said softly, voice close to shaking with something that Cosima couldn’t quite identify. 

“Let’s just…” Cosima didn’t want to go into it now, how everything had so quickly fallen apart, how her _family_ was falling apart--Sarah was hardly home, Helena seemed to have shut down entirely, Mrs. S was silent and tired more often than not now, Tony was lost in this house of lost people, Felix was off somewhere learning how to kill people--how her own body was falling apart, against her will and out of her control. “Let’s just go get lunch.” 

“I believe the cafe’s special today is apple pie,” Delphine said, steering the conversation away so smoothly and gently that Cosima could’ve kissed her.

Nobody was around. 

So she did.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Tell me how Cosima’s doing.”

“Um…” Scott squirmed in his seat, glancing at everything in Delphine’s office other than Delphine. “I mean, she’s my patient and my friend, I’m not sure how much I--” 

“As I am her physician and one of the leading researchers on the experimental treatment she is receiving, you should be telling me everything.” 

Delphine regarded Scott coolly from across her desk, waiting for the obviously nervous man to start speaking. After less than ten seconds, he did.

“She’s...she’s doing really remarkably well. Based on her x-rays, the tumor growth has stopped almost completely--she’s stable, which should really be impossible based on this initial assessment--” 

“And the side effects of the radiation?” Delphine interrupted, her maroon-painted nails clicking against the desk as she straightened a few papers. 

“I wanted to talk to you about that.” Scott leaned forward eagerly before making the mistake of glancing up at Delphine, his enthusiasm quickly dimming slightly in response to Delphine’s intimidating gaze. “Um, well, as you know, part of the Coutard method is triggering a severe mucosal reaction--a survivable one, obviously, but a very severe one. I calculated the doses of radiation accordingly but she actually doesn’t seem to be having much of a reaction at all.” 

“Explain,” Delphine said, fixing Scott with a solid stare, no longer feigning disinterest by seeming to focus on the layout of her desk.

“Well, at this point in radiation treatments, most patients have severe swelling in the irradiated area, extreme exhaustion, pneumonia isn’t uncommon--it’s, um, it’s not what would be expected. It doesn’t make sense.” 

“Yes, I’ve seen the research on the Coutard method.” Delphine paused for a moment, halfway to speaking, before deciding against it. “Is that all, Doctor Smith?” 

“I’m sorry, Doctor Cormier, but this is kind of a big deal.” Scott pulled out a folder he’d been carrying, opening it on Delphine’s desk and spreading out the papers within it. “Here are the calculations I did originally to determine the radiation doses for Cosima--er, Doctor Niehaus--er, you call her Cosima too, right? Anyway, I was told that it was a severe case, so the doses were meant to trigger the severe mucosal response within a couple of weeks, as soon as possible, basically. Of course, there’s individual variation, so I didn’t think much of it when she wasn’t showing these symptoms after the first few weeks, but it’s been over a month now. The skin on her chest isn’t even that inflamed--I mean, it’s not like I’m _looking_ at her chest--I am, I’m monitoring her properly, I mean, but that’s not--I’m not--” 

“Doctor Smith,” Delphine sighed, cutting off his flustered rant. “This is nothing you need to worry about. Cosima is being administered some experimental drugs. The symptoms you are describing fall well within the parameters of what we expect as side effects from these drugs.” 

“That...wasn’t mentioned in the briefing I received from Mr. Stark,” Scott said slowly, brow furrowing in confusion. “What drugs--” 

“If there is something you need to know, you will be _told,_ Doctor Smith,” Delphine said, without even looking up at the radiologist sitting across from her, and Scott promptly shut up. “That’s all I need from you today.” 

Knowing a dismissal when he heard one, Scott quickly gathered his papers and shoved them back into the folder haphazardly, nearly dropping it twice on his way to the door.

“Oh, and Scott?” 

He looked up from where he was standing in the doorway. Delphine stared him directly in the eye, both her voice and stare deadly serious.

“Cosima does not need to know about any of this. Do you understand?” 

Scott nodded quickly, nearly dropping the folder one last time before making a quick exit from Doctor Cormier’s office.

He waited until the door had shut firmly before glancing back toward the office, suspicion clouding his face.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Scotty!” Cosima greeted cheerfully, tossing a red-stained tissue into a trash can as she did. She’d given up on cloth handkerchiefs after a few weeks, tired of trying to scrub bloodstains out of the delicate fabric. “Almost ten minutes behind schedule, I thought you’d forgotten me.”

“Cosima,” Scott greeted, not quite looking her in the eye as he began fiddling with the radiation machine. 

“So what kept you? Drama with a previous patient? Lady friend in a supply closet? Come on, I’m dying of boredom here. I left my copy of _On the Origin of Species_ at home.”

“I was...busy.” 

“You’re a crappy liar, Scott,” Cosima teased, laying back on the bed as Scott began maneuvering the machine into place. “It was totally a girl, wasn’t it? C’mon, spill. What’s her name?” 

“I was in Doctor Cormier’s office.” 

“Scott.” Cosima’s voice turned a little less teasing and a little more sinister. “You better explain that quickly.” 

“I had a meeting with her,” Scott explained quickly, knowing better than to get on Cosima’s bad side. “Professional. About work. I swear.” 

“I guess I’ll take your word for it,” Cosima said, her smirk faltering when she saw Scott’s expression. “What is it?”

“How are you feeling?” 

“Like you’re holding out on me.” Cosima frowned, starting to sit up before remembering the radiation currently being beamed into her chest. “What, Scott?”

“It’s…” Scott crossed over to the door and made sure it was securely closed before turning back to Cosima. “You’re okay.”

“...And?” 

“You have cancer, and high doses of radiation being pumped into you, and you’re okay.” 

Cosima opened her mouth to respond, only to fall silent when she realized she didn’t actually have a response to that.

“Look, I’ve been researching the Coutard method, and related ones, since before I even heard of your case, I know the progression of the treatment. And this is…” He swallowed nervously, looking at the door as if afraid someone was going to burst through it without warning. “Doctor Cormier might fire me for telling you this, but this isn’t normal.”

“Wha--Delphine?” Cosima stared at Scott, bewildered. “Delphine is keeping something from me?”

“I…” Scott fumbled for words, trying to backpedal. “I mean, I don’t…”

“Scott.” Cosima met his eyes from the hospital bed, confusion replaced with a hard determination. “Tell me what you know.”

Pulling over a chair so that they could speak while Cosima was still laying flat beneath the radiation machine, Scott pulled out the same manila folder as the one he’d shown Delphine, and started talking.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------

“I don’t know if this is really a good idea,” Scott said hesitantly.

“Come on, Scotty-boy, don’t wimp out on me now.” Cosima sat cross-legged on the hospital bed, her arm with IV tubing snaking out of it extended in front of her. Scott paced back and forth in front of the room’s closed door, vials clicking in his coat pocket.

“It’s easy for you to say, the two of you are ...well, I don’t know exactly, but she’d never hurt you. My job’s on the line here. And Doctor Cormier kind of scares me.” 

“Delphine? Come on, she’s a puppy. You don’t need to be worried about her. Besides, you might just piss off Stark.”

“That is not comforting.” Scott kept pacing while Cosima grabbed a tourniquet, fumbling as she tried to tie it around her bicep one-handed. “Have you tried, you know, talking to Doctor Cormier before apparently antagonizing her and every one of my employers?” 

“If she hasn’t told me already, she’s not going to tell me now,” Cosima countered. “I have a right to know what’s going into my own body, right?”

“I mean, yeah, but…” 

“Scott. I’ll cover for you. Just come over here and help me.” 

Scott sighed, but crossed over to her anyway, pulling on a pair of sterile gloves. He readjusted the tourniquet Cosima had tried to tie on and pulled out one of the vials he had in his pocket, carefully prodding the skin around where the catheter disappeared into Cosima’s arm.

“I still think--” 

“Scott. Just do it.” 

Scott shook his head, but carefully pulled the tubing out anyway, sliding the tubing over so it dripped its contents into one the small vial.

“How much do you want?” 

“A small sample’s fine.” Cosima looked over Scott’s head at the door, watching and listening for any sign of anyone coming. “We haven’t got a lot of time.” 

“I know, I know.” Scott filled the vial halfway before capping it and reaching up to replace the IV catheter. “Where do you want this?” 

“Somewhere refrigerated, and outside of Stark’s control.”

“What, you’re saying there’s some massive Stark Industries conspiracy going on, and somehow you’re involved?”

“Scotty-boy, you really have no idea.” Cosima winced as Scott tried to reinsert the IV and missed the vein entirely. _“Ow.”_

“Sorry, I…” Scott replaced the needle and tried again, grimacing as he missed again and Cosima hissed in pain. “I’m really not this kind of doctor.” 

“You think?” Cosima suppressed a flinch as Scott finally managed to properly insert the IV, quickly taping it back down. He stood up quickly, stowing the vial in his pocket and tried to both rush out of the room and leave it casually, nearly running into Delphine as he did so.

“Doctor Smith.”

“H-hello, Doctor Cormier. Um, excuse me,” he said quickly, ducking around the blonde woman and hurrying down the hallway. Delphine stared after him for a moment before letting herself into Cosima’s room.

 _“Bonjour, ma cherie,”_ Delphine said happily, crossing breezily over to Cosima and kissing her warmly. Cosima let Delphine tilt her head back and kiss her, watching Delphine with slightly narrowed eyes as the blonde turned away, setting her bag on the bedside table.

“Hey, Delphine.” 

“I brought you your book,” Delphine said, pulling out a thick copy of _On the Origin of Species._ “I must say that I do not find it very compelling.” 

“What? And you call yourself a scientist?” Cosima straightened her legs so she sat with her legs dangling over the edge of the bed, patting the space next to her and encouraging Delphine to sit.

“Yes, but you are the one who loves evolution,” Delphine said, sitting and draping a blanket over Cosima’s shoulders. “And the one who stands a chance of understanding Mr. Darwin’s...archaic English.”

“Aww, does Darwin write too fancy?” 

“You are such a brat,” Delphine laughed, passing Cosima the book. “After I did this for you, as well.”

“I’ll make it up to you,” Cosima replied, pulled into Delphine’s aura and choosing to ignore her suspicions for the moment, leaning into Delphine’s side.

“Mm, but how?” 

“I can think of a few ways,” Cosima murmured, grinning at the way Delphine glanced at her lips. “If you’re willing, of course.” 

“I cannot think of anything I would like more.” 

Cosima took a breath to respond, only to feel an all too familiar catch in her throat, with barely enough time to push Delphine away before the coughing began, blood and breath alike clawing its way up from her chest and out of her mouth. 

Delphine is there in an instant, her arm across Cosima’s chest stopping the brunette from doubling over and her voice in Cosima’s ear whispering white noise that, once Cosima manages to suck in a full lungful of air, turns into breathe, Cosima, breathe, it is okay, you’re okay. 

“So that was sexy, right?” she gasped once she could speak again, half-collapsed in Delphine’s arms. 

“Cosima…” 

“Give me a minute, I’m fine,” Cosima said before Delphine could continue, taking the tissue Delphine offered and wiping at her lips. “That kind of ruined the mood a little though, huh?”

“Was that the first major episode today?” 

“Can we not?” Cosima said instead of answering, crumpling the tissue so the red was barely visible and throwing it away, fingertips shaking slightly. “The whole doctor-patient thing.”

“This is important, Cosima.” 

“I know that. But...just tonight. Please?” 

Delphine sighed, but didn’t press the issue, instead gently rubbing Cosima’s back and further securing the blanket on Cosima’s shoulders. 

“So explain to me the appeal of this Darwin,” Delphine said, pressing a quick kiss to the corner of Cosima’s mouth before Cosima sprung into an excited monologue on evolution and the breakthroughs Darwin made. 

The brunette still tasted of something red and somewhere between bitter and cloyingly sweet.

It wasn’t strawberries anymore.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Okay Scott, tell me what we’ve got.”

Cosima shrugged off her red coat and draped it over a nearby chair, pulling on a lab coat as a replacement as she crossed one of Stark Industries’ unused laboratories over to where Scott was working.

“Not a lot,” Scott admitted, gesturing to the set of small vials he’d amassed. “Most of these are the drugs that I was told would be there--mustard gas derivatives, mostly mustine, you know.” Cosima nodded, and he continued. “But there is this one compound that I found and I can’t identify. It’s complex, but stable, there’s hardly any of it present, but I’ve never seen anything like it.” 

Scott lifted a vial, barely an inch long, less than halfway full of a shimmering blue liquid.

“Shit,” Cosima breathed, taking the vial from Scott and holding it up to the light. “I know what this is.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're almost halfway guys! And I do have to warn you, things really collide soon. Also, did anyone catch the brief hint at Helena's backstory last chapter? Really blink-and-you'll-miss-it, but there, I promise!
> 
> I hope you all have wonderful days--and of course, let me know what you thought in the comments!


	12. Twelve

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for: Illness, and discussions of war and dying.

The next morning, Cosima arrived at the hospital at her usual time, pacing around the hospital room instead of sitting on the bed and waiting as she normally did.

_“Bonjour, Cosima,”_ Delphine said brightly, breezing into the hospital room with a fresh IV bottle in hand before stopping and staring at Cosima uncertainly. “You haven’t changed.”

“Nope,” Cosima said, gesturing to the mint green frock she was wearing instead of a hospital gown. “Do you know why? It’s because I’m not taking your drugs today.”

“Cosima--” 

“You know what’s in these IVs, don’t you?” She saw the hint of a flinch before Delphine could suppress it, and Cosima felt her heart break just a little more. “It’s not just mustine and saline, is it?” 

“Cosima, please--” 

_“The super-soldier serum,”_ Cosima spat, and Delphine turned away, setting the bottle and catheter on the table instead of even trying to set it up on the stand. “And you _knew.”_

Delphine turned back to face Cosima, not meeting the shorter woman’s eyes, and Cosima felt her hands clench into fists at her side.

_“YOU KNEW!”_ she shouted, breath turning ragged as she Delphine’s eyes snapped up to meet hers, startled. Her jaw ached from gritting her teeth watched Delphine run her hands through her hair, doing her best to ignore the wetness in Delphine’s eyes. “And you stole it, didn’t you?” 

“I--” 

“I ran a screen on a couple of mice. You know, two of the six mice that have died mysteriously over the past few weeks? Checking for toxins, infections, all that. I found _Clostridium botulinum._ So much of it was injected that the serum was overwhelmed. That’s not an accidental infection. That’s not just something that _happens._ You killed them and stole the serum that was meant to be thrown away.”

Delphine didn’t even try to deny it, and Cosima found that angering her even more than her initial discovery.

“Cosima, please--” 

“You set the project back _weeks._ You _sabotaged_ it--” 

“Because it was _working!”_ Delphine took a few steps closer to Cosima, faltering and stopping at Cosima’s glare. “Cosima, you were _dying._ You nearly died in my arms when you had that seizure, and this _worked.”_

“Great, I’m not dying,” Cosima spat. Stopped from moving backward by the hospital bed behind her, she folded her arms over her chest. “Soldiers are dying. _Hundreds of thousands of them._ This could have saved them, this could have ended the war, and you literally threw it away.” 

“It was to _save you!”_

“And to condemn all those people fighting this war.” Delphine took a small gasp that sounded like something close to a sob. “To give up our chance to _win.”_

“This war is already lost for me, Cosima!” Delphine’s voice broke, and Cosima felt tears springing into her own eyes against her will. “I have lost my home, my family, my friends, I--” Her voice stuttered and she ran a frustrated hand through her hair. “I cannot lose you too.” 

“Delphine,” Cosima said, voice trembling and hands shaking. “I can’t lose my brother.” 

“Cosima…” 

“Felix. He’s over there, right now. He could die.” A tear dripped down Cosima’s face, and she wished she couldn’t see the agony in Delphine’s eyes. “I can’t--I can’t do this. Not if it means risking him.” 

“Please.” Delphine’s hands twitched at her sides, as if she wanted to reach out to Cosima but was holding herself back. “You don’t understand.” 

“I need you to promise me something,” Cosima said, forcing her voice to hold steady. “I need you to promise me that you’ll stop this.” 

“Cosima,” Delphine whispered, pleading in her voice. “I can’t do that.”

“This is the only thing I’m asking you to do,” Cosima said, anger rejoining the other emotions shaking her voice. “I’m asking you to _save my brother.”_

“I can’t do that,” Delphine said, staring Cosima in the eye, something like begging in her gaze.

“Get out.” 

“You don’t _understand--”_

“Get _OUT!”_

Delphine fled the room, the door slamming with an almost deadly sort of finality, and it was only then that Cosima collapsed onto the bed, shoulders shaking with tremulous sobs.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Well, Miss Niehaus, after looking through your file, I have to say that I’m surprised you’re even capable of having this meeting with me.”

Doctor Nealon didn’t look at Cosima as he spoke, glancing at the x-rays of her chest instead. The graying man was smart, but Cosima noted that he had absolutely no bedside manner. 

“I don’t know what Doctor Cormier was thinking, really. She was always rather impulsive, that one.” 

“I’m not--” Cosima stopped to clear her throat. “I’m really not here to discuss Doctor Cormier.” 

“Hm. Quite.” Doctor Nealon crossed back toward Cosima and sat down across from her, looking at Cosima in a way that made Cosima feel like a collection of symptoms, rather than being seen. “Well, this isn’t the normal type of case I’d take on, but Mr. Stark insisted. I have outlined a regimen of palliative drugs here,” he said, pushing a paper toward her. “You’re a scientist, I trust you don’t need me to explain. There is also oxygen therapy--oxygen is administered periodically from a canister through a mask. It should help to make you more comfortable.”

“Right.” Cosima said, glancing over the list of mainly painkillers and sedatives. “So I’m going to be spending the last few months of my life semi-comatose, huh?” 

“I wouldn’t predict months, Miss Niehaus--” 

“Doctor.” 

“Doctor Niehaus. In the interest of making sure you plan...realistically, I would tell you to plan for two weeks at best, if you stay in the hospital with access to care at all times. As I said before, I am amazed you made it so far.” 

“Thank you,” Cosima said dryly, using her sarcasm to cover the shake in her voice. “Maybe my luck will hold out, huh?”

“I wouldn’t hold my breath, Miss Niehaus.” 

Cosima didn’t flip off her new doctor as she left, but it was a very near thing.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------

“I’m home,” Cosima called wearily as she slipped into the familiar cramped Brooklyn home, shrugging off the jacket she wore to fend off the early June warmth that still managed to chill her. “Anyone around?”

“No.” Helena stuck her head around a hallway corner, a tiny grin pulling at her lips. Cosima couldn’t help smiling back, despite it all.

“Nobody’s around?”

“No,” Helena repeated, teeth biting at her lower lip as she grinned, until her face fell. “It is just Mrs. S and Tony here.”

“Sarah’s not back yet, huh?”

Helena looked down, unhappiness clear on her face. Cosima sighed softly and reach a hand out to Helena, waiting for Helena to take it, which she did after a few moments.

“Come, _sestra_ Cosima. You are thin. You must eat.”

The kitchen was a quiet place, without any boisterous chatter or joking. Mrs. S was bent over the stove, spooning soup into bowls while Tony quietly set the table. Helena dropped Cosima’s hand and shuffled over to take the spoons from Tony, the blonde seeming to be consciously trying to make herself smaller.

“S got a letter from France,” Tony explained in an undertone when he saw Cosima. “Apparently, Uncle Carlton is enjoying the company of his new German neighbors so much that he’s not going to be able to come home for Helena and Sarah’s birthday this year.”

Cosima sucked in a breath as the implication of the words sunk in. Carlton wasn’t a blood relation, the same way none of them were, but was a close family friend, having helped to bring both Sarah and, later, Helena to New York. He’d shifted from child smuggling to resistance fighting in France once the war had begun, and the meaning hidden in the innocuous letter was clear.

Carlton was either captured or dead, and either way was likely to never to visit New York for Sarah and Helena’s birthday--or ever--again.

“Is she okay?”

Tony shrugged, not totally able to feign nonchalance. “The fact that Sarah hasn’t shown her face in days doesn’t help.”

“Are you two going to yap all night, or actually get that table set?”

“Sorry, Mrs. S,” Cosima said quickly, Tony making a vaguely apologetic noise as he turned back to setting plates on the scarred wooden table. Mrs. S started carrying the filled soup bowls over to the table, setting them down approximately where they would all be sitting. She didn’t meet any of her children in the eye.

“Um, S?”

“What is it, Tony?”

“You’ve, um.” Tony hesitated, his usual cockiness giving way to hesitation. His fingers twisted in the hem of the shirt he was wearing--one of Felix’s old dress shirts that he’d left behind. Tony and Felix had always shared clothes before Felix had gone away, Tony always eager to strip off the dresses society insisted he wore and Felix eager to give fashion advice, but Tony had been wearing almost exclusively Felix’s clothes lately, insisting that Felix would be offended when he came home if he saw that they’d been acting like he’d already died. “You’ve put down two extra bowls.”

“So I have,” Mrs. S said neutrally, looking at the two bowls of onion soup sitting where Felix and Sarah usually sat. Something flickered across the older woman’s face, too quick to identify, and she picked up the bowls. 

“I will eat them,” Helena said from where she was pressed into the corner of the kitchen, eyes focused hungrily on the extra soup before darting cautiously to Mrs. S. Mrs. S softened, smiling small and sad in Helena’s direction.

“I’m sure you will, chicken,” she said, pouring the contents of one of the bowls into Helena’s. “But I’ll put this one aside for now--who knows, you might get full.”

“I do not get full,” Helena said, and Tony laughed, a bit louder and brasher than he normally did.

“Amen, sister,” he said, grabbing the main dish--an old turkey he’d bragged about scoring cheap from the butchers--and dishing out a couple slices per plate. Cosima, beginning to feel light-headed from standing for so long, sank into her chair.

The four of them ended up sitting closer to each other than normally, as if all of them were trying to ignore the two empty seats. Cosima was sandwiched between Mrs. S and Helena, doing her best to smile and ignore Helena’s concerned looks.

She’d never quite managed to convince Helena she was fine after that coughing fit in the kitchen. Or maybe Helena was just more perceptive than anyone gave the blonde credit for, Cosima thought, stifling a cough.

“We should pray,” Helena said suddenly, as if sensing Cosima was thinking about her.

“What?” Tony asked, a humorless laugh in his voice. “Shoot, I don’t know if I even know how. The big man hasn’t exactly done me many favors, you know.”

“We hold hands,” Helena said, grabbing Cosima’s and reaching across the table for Tony’s. “And we speak to Him.”

“Yeah, I don’t--” 

“In convent,” Helena continued stubbornly, Tony falling silent. “When the nuns would leave me in darkness, I would pray for a _sestra._ For a family. They told me it would not work, because I am abomination. But He brought me to you.” Helena looked toward Sarah’s empty seat, her voice quieter. “Maybe He will bring them back.”

The kitchen was silent for a moment, and then Cosima felt Mrs. S’s calloused hand close around hers. Tony sighed, as if he was doing everyone a huge favor, but there was something like wanting to hope in his hazel eyes as he reach across the table to take Helena’s hand. Helena lowered her head and they all followed suit, but it was Mrs. S who began to speak.

“Dear Lord,” she said, her voice quiet but seeming to enwrap them all, the soft Irish brogue seeming to fill the kitchen and separate it from the rest of the world. “We thank you for the food on our table, and the love of our friends and family, and for those here at this table tonight.” Cosima felt Helena’s fingers shift in her own hand. 

“We ask for the protection and safe return of those who aren’t with us tonight,” Mrs. S said, and her voice broke for half a moment before she continued. “And we pray for the souls and the safe passage of those who are no longer living.

“And we beg you, Lord, to not take away any more of us.” Mrs. S’s hand tightened around Cosima’s, and Cosima felt an almost suffocating surge of guilt blossom in the pit of her stomach and she bit her lip. “Amen.” 

“Amen,” the rest of table chorused, everyone holding onto each other’s hands for a few extra moments before pulling away. The spell of the prayer lingered in the air, tinged with something like mourning before Tony nearly knocked his bowl over, and Mrs. S scolded him, almost sounding like her usual self.

“May I have more soup, please?”

“Jeez, sis, how fast can you eat?”

“I can eat faster. Would you like to see?” Helena asked, with an almost terrifying grin.

“Nope, nope, I’m good,” Tony said quickly, and Helena smirked before tucking into the bowl of soup he’d passed her.

Cosima felt like an intruder on this moment of almost-normality and almost-happiness, looking down into her bowl of soup. It wasn’t her fault she was dying, she tried to reason with herself, even as just thinking the word “dying” made her gut clench and her fingertips tremble almost invisibly. It _couldn’t_ be her fault that she was dying--unless it was, unless she could be blamed for refusing Delphine’s help, for refusing to even see the blonde since their fight.

She couldn’t be blamed for refusing to live at the cost of getting her cure illegally, at the cost of delaying the research and going against her own moral code.

Right?

“You are not eating, _sestra_ Cosima.” Helena’s displeased voice broke Cosima out of that train of thought.

“Yeah, I’m--I’m not that hungry,” she said, pulling a self-deprecating grin. “You want my meat?”

Helena looked at the meat, clearly tempted, but then she shook her head, pushing the plate toward Cosima.

“You must eat.”

“Think that’s the first time I’ve ever seen Helena refuse food,” Tony joked. “But seriously Cos, what’s up? You look like you’re thinking about something.”

“Yeah, I…” Cosima pushed her bowl of soup away, suddenly feeling sick. “I…”

“We don’t have all day.”

“I’m probably gonna be away the next couple of weeks,” she blurted, looking at her soup instead of any of her family. “It’s a work thing. We’re, um, we’re close to a big breakthrough, and then Stark wants the scientists to travel around with the invention--for security, I guess, and, uh, to stoke his ego, probably.”

“When will you be back?” Mrs. S had stopped eating and was looking directly at her; Cosima couldn’t meet her foster mother’s gaze.

“I don’t know.” Cosima shrugged, pulling her soup back towards her and swirling it with her spoon instead of eating any. “It’s no big.”

“Then why do you wear a liar’s face?” Helena asked, and Cosima felt tears leap, hot and stinging, into her eyes. She blinked them back and made herself look Helena in the eye and grin.

“Okay, it’s kind of a big deal. Meeting with senators and stuff--I can’t talk about specifics. But in a couple--” She stopped to swallow around the lump in her throat. “In a couple weeks it’ll all be over. You guys can survive without me, right?”

“We do not want to,” Helena said softly, and Cosima very quickly excused herself from the table to lock herself in the bathroom.

A towel pressed to her face muffled both her coughs and her sobs.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t the great Howard Stark.” Cosima sat up straighter in the hospital bed, pulling one of the three blankets covering her closer as it began to slip. “I thought you sent a lackey to visit people for you instead of deigning to come yourself.”

“Do you have drugs to blame for your rudeness?” Howard asked, eyeing the IV going into Cosima’s arm with some trepidation.

“Nah,” Cosima said, “That’s just nutrients and saline. But, y’know, cancer, so I can get away with a lot now.”

“Seems useful,” Howard commented, pulling up a chair and leaning back in it, propping his feet on the edge of Cosima’s bed. “I should get one of my PR people to circulate a rumor that I’ve got lung cancer. Maybe it’d get the bastards on Capitol Hill off my back.” 

“Asshole,” Cosima said, chuckling wheezily as Howard faux-winced and pressed a hand to his heart.

“I’m wounded, Niehaus. Truly I am.”

“Why are you here, Stark?”

“You may be a pain in my ass, Niehaus, but against my will I am fond of you, and I appreciate all that you’ve done for the Project. I figured I’d drop by and give you an update.”

“Alright,” she said, and leaned back into the pillows, too tired to keep upright. “I bet you’ve made no progress at all now that I’m not there.”

“Well it’s been slow,” Howard said with a careless shrug. “Erskine still won’t reveal the fundamentals of the serum, no matter how many times I ask, the stubborn old man. But the mice have stopped dying, which helps. Congress is still spooked, demanding some extra tests and longer-term studies, but we should be ready to deploy in three weeks, at the latest.”

“No chance you could hurry it up?” Cosima asked, as casually as she could. “I’d like to be around to see if it works.”

“I’ll see what I can do,” Howard replied, his voice as casual as Cosima’s even as his eyes grew darker. “Delphine’s been working hard,” he added, and Cosima looked away. “She’s hardly left the lab these past few days.”

“She’s not my concern.”

“Right.” There was a frankly incredible amount of sarcasm in that one word, and Cosima leveled an entirely ineffective glare at him. “Not your concern at all, I see.”

“What do you want, Stark?” she asked, aiming for angry and ending up with exhausted. 

“Why do people always assume I have an ulterior motive?” 

Cosima raised an eyebrow.

“Okay, okay. But I can’t just come and visit a sick friend, do a quality check of my hospital, pick up a few things I need--” 

“So that’s it.”

“Seriously, Cosima.” He pulled his feet off the edge of Cosima’s bed and leaned forward, his voice losing all teasing. “I just came by to say I’m sorry.” 

“Jeez, Stark--”

“I am,” he said. “You don’t deserve this shit.”

“Yeah, well,” Cosima sighed, not wanting to elaborate. “Don’t let me bore you.”

“You let me know if you need anything,” Stark said, wagging a finger at her as he stood. “Or anyone.”

“Oh, I’ll definitely call,” Cosima half-laughed, and Stark grinned before he left, the door swinging shut and leaving Cosima alone.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------

“How is she?”

 _“Jesus,_ Delphine,” Howard sputtered, having nearly run into her as he exited Cosima’s room. “How long have you been there?” He stopped, squinting at Delphine’s face. “How long has it been since you slept?”

“That’s not important,” Delphine said quickly, pushing a stray lock of hair behind her ear and ducking her head. “How is Cosima?”

“Why don’t you go check on her yourself?”

“She doesn’t want to see me,” Delphine said, her voice deliberately neutral.

“She doesn’t want to, or she’s too proud to let you, and you’re out here hiding from her?”

Delphine fell silent and Howard sighed before turning to leave.

“I don’t know what is going on with you two,” he said as he walked away, “But you two should work it out. Before it’s too late.” 

Delphine’s hands clenched into white-knuckled fists at her side and she stood in front of the closed door leading to Cosima’s room.

A moment later she took a deep breath, schooled her features, and walked briskly away.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Cosima woke slowly, feeling disconnected from everything, from herself, as the world made itself known in bits and pieces.

The sound of someone humming.

Something warm on her face.

A blurred figure with a halo of gold ringlets sitting at her bedside.

“I…”

“Cosima?” The humming stopped abruptly, and Cosima frowned at the loss. Whatever had been on her face was withdrawn, quickly replaced with the cool rim of a water glass. A warm hand on the back of her neck helped her raise her head and drink greedily.

“Shh, you’ll make yourself sick.” Cosima coughed and she felt something warm gently sponging off her face again. “Shh. You’re all right.”

“Del--” Cosima cleared her throat again, eyes squeezing reflexively before she blinked them open again, the fuzziness of the world now less due to the fuzziness inside her head and instead due to her lack of glasses. “Delphine?”

“Cosima. You’re really awake.” The relief in Delphine’s voice almost totally overwhelmed the words themselves. She passed Cosima her glasses and helped her put them on, giving Cosima a moment to see Delphine’s relieved smile before the blonde’s face fell, and tensed. “How are you feeling?”

“Like I lost several fights. At once.” Delphine still looked unsure, her hands fiddling with the corner of a red-stained cloth. _Oh,_ Cosima realized. Delphine must’ve been cleaning the blood off her face. “What happened?”

“You had a seizure,” Delphine explained, folding and unfolding the cloth in her lap. “I was nearby, I offered to help--”

“And then you stayed.”

“I’m sorry,” Delphine said, folding the cloth once more and setting it on the bedside table, standing to leave. Cosima reach out impulsively, her fingers wrapping around Delphine’s wrist and stopping her.

“Stay?”

Delphine sat down immediately, her own willowy fingers wrapping around Cosima’s too-skinny forearm and leaning forward so their forearms and hands rested on Cosima’s bed.

“Cosima?”

“I want you to stay,” Cosima clarified, “I want you here while this...while I…”

“Cosima.” Delphine’s fingers tightened on Cosima’s arm, her eyes lighting with barely contained frenzied determination. “I can help you--I can fix this--please, Cosima, just _let me--”_

“I can’t, Delphine,” Cosima said, her lower lip quivering. “You _know_ I can’t. Please don’t do this,” she added in a broken whisper when Delphine opened her mouth to object. “Please just...be with me.”

Delphine reached up a hand and rested it on Cosima’s cheek, her thumb brushing over Cosima’s cheekbone and brushing away a tear Cosima hadn’t even noticed was there. She kissed Cosima and Cosima kissed her back, their hands tight around each other’s forearms and the tang of copper and desperation on her lips.

“I will never leave you,” Delphine vowed, her forehead pressed to Cosima’s and staring unflinchingly into Cosima’s eyes. “I will never leave you.”

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Delphine became a silent presence in Cosima’s room surprisingly quickly, and much to Doctor Nealon’s annoyance (and therefore Cosima’s glee). But even Nealon who, in Cosima’s words, had “a stick so far up his ass you can see it in the back of his mouth,” couldn’t easily deny Cosima anything, so when Delphine was not working in the lab, she was in the room until the nurses forced her to leave at sundown.

When they wheeled in an oxygen tank and mask, after Cosima stopped being able to take a breath without a whistling wheeze, the nurses stopped making Delphine go home.

“I hate this,” Cosima gasped one day, pulling up the mask that rested over her nose and mouth. “So not a fashion statement.”

“Yes,” Delphine said, pressed up against Cosima as the two shared the narrow bed. “Because hospitals are infamous for being centers of fashion.”

“Damn, Doctor Cormier, the _sass,”_ Cosima said, and Delphine smiled a small, sad smile, her hand gently stroking up and down Cosima’s arm. She could see it in Delphine’s eyes before the blonde even opened her mouth, the same argument they’d had twice before beginning to bubble to the surface again.

Cosima kissed her before Delphine could open her mouth.

She knew it was killing Delphine, to have a treatment within reach and for Cosima to refuse to take it.

The constant crackle in her chest and struggle for air made it rather clear that it was killing Cosima too.

Cosima didn’t want to have the argument again, because she was afraid that when Delphine asked her to take the serum, she wouldn’t say no.

Delphine fell silent, and Cosima fell into an exhausted sleep a few moments later.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------

“What the bloody hell is this?”

“Jesus _fuck.”_

Cosima jerked awake, oxygen mask half-sliding off her face as she found herself woken, for the second time in her life, by a pregnant British woman glaring daggers at her.

She pulled the mask off entirely and nearly doubled over as all too familiar coughs seized her chest and she felt her mouth fill with copper. She heard swearing and felt someone sit on the bed, but it all took a backseat as she tried to clear her throat, and then when her coughing finally eased she clutched the oxygen mask to her face and sucked in gulps of air.

“What the fuck, Cos?”

“What the fuck? What the _fuck?”_ Cosima lifted the mask slightly off her face as she spoke, looking directly up at Sarah. “Where the hell have you been? You’ve been gone for days.”

Sarah looked away, her chin jutting up defiantly. 

“What’s wrong with you?”

_“Me?_ This isn’t about--”

“Yes it is!” Sarah’s gaze snapped back toward Cosima, fire blazing in her eyes. “You were getting better. You were fine. Then I get back and Tony spins me some bullshit about you going out of town for work. That’s even worse than your last story. Do you think I’m an idiot?”

“Are you mad at me?”

“Yes I bloody am! You said you were fine. You said you were _going to be fine.”_

“Sarah…”

Sarah’s voice had broken and she turned away again, eyes shining wetly and her jaw clenched. Cosima was almost too tired to move, her stomach muscles sore almost to the point of burning from coughing, but she reached out anyway, laying her hand in Sarah’s lap. A heartbeat later, Sarah took Cosima’s hand and squeezed it, almost painfully.

“Hey, Sarah. Sarah, look at me.” 

“What’s happening, Cos?” Sarah’s voice was thin and high, almost childlike in its confusion. 

“Sarah, I…” Cosima swallowed, blinking back tears of her own. “I’m sorry.”

“No. _No.”_ Sarah’s hand clenched, trembling, around Cosima’s. “You don’t get to do that. You can’t do that.” 

“Then what--” 

“Get better,” Sarah said, lower lip trembling. “Get better. I--uh--”

Sarah gasped suddenly, her words breaking off. Her grip loosened on Cosima’s hand, but instead of letting it go entirely she moved it to rest on her stomach.

And something pushed her.

“Do you feel that?”

“Yeah,” Cosima whispered, blinking and feeling tears run down her cheeks as what felt like a miniscule foot gently nudging her hand. “Hi, baby. Hi there.”

“Do you know what it’s saying?” Sarah asked, her voice shaking. “It’s saying it loves you.”

Cosima rubbed Sarah’s belly gently, tears flowing freely down her cheeks.

“It’s saying it needs you.” Sarah met Cosima’s eyes, her free hand wiping away the wetness under her eyes. “It needs you. _I_ need you, Cos, I can’t--I’m falling apart already, I’m going to be a shit mother, I need you. Cos, please, you’re my sister. I can’t do this without you.”

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Cosima woke the next morning with Delphine’s head on her shoulder, the blonde’s breathing slow and even, and her hand wrapped around Cosima’s wrist.

Delphine had spent less and less time at the lab, and Cosima had started taking more and more impromptu daytime naps, so she was used to waking up with Delphine there, her hands resting on Cosima’s neck or gently gripping her wrist. This was one of the only times she’d woken and found Delphine still sleeping, rather than her awake and looking at her, or deep in thought.

She looked thinner, Cosima noted, thin and tired. There were dark smudges underneath her eyes, part old makeup and part exhaustion. Her curls were limper around her face than before, it seemed, and her free hand was curled next to her face like a little girl. She shifted slightly in her sleep, her brow furrowing, but her hand didn’t move from Cosima’s wrist.

_She’s checking my pulse,_ Cosima realized, _even when she’s asleep._

_She must be so scared._

Cosima’s breath caught and she cleared her throat as quietly as she could, but Delphine still blinked awake immediately, her fingers tightening on Cosima’s radial artery for a second before she sat up.

“Cosima, _je suis désolé,_ I did not mean to fall asleep.”

“Hey, it’s fine, I’ve fallen asleep on you plenty of times.” She pulled off her mask as she spoke, tucking it into the crook of her neck. “What time is it?”

“Mm, just after one,” Delphine said, checking the watch on her wrist before stretching.

“AM?”

“PM,” Delphine corrected, looking a bit embarrassed. “I came here from the lab this morning, I only closed my eyes for a moment.”

“Did something happen?” Cosima pressed the mask to her face for a moment, taking a deep breath and feeling her lightheadedness clear a bit.

“Erskine found someone.”

“Someone?” she asked raspily, taking another breath from the mask. “You mean he’s found someone to give the serum to?”

“At last,” Delphine said, with a small and forced smile. “They planned the procedure for tomorrow.”

“Wow,” Cosima said, her voice coming out less excited than she’d wanted it to be. “Who--who is he?”

“Steve Rogers,” Delphine said, pulling a photo out of a file she’d left on the bedside table and passing it to Cosima. The man in question was as skinny as Cosima was after all the cancer and drugs, pale hair dangling sweat-stained around his face. 

“God, he looks worse than me.” 

“He is...so ill, Cosima. A list of conditions as long as my arm,” Delphine said with a humorless laugh. “But Erskine is confident that the serum will heal him. Make him better than before and without issue.”

Cosima set the picture aside, entwining her fingers with Delphine’s.

“I could save you,” Delphine blurted. “This could cure you, even now, a full dose could--they can make more--I cannot sit back and watch you _die,_ Cosima.” 

Delphine was gasping and her voice shaking with tears by the time she was done, but Cosima was looking at their hands instead of Delphine’s face. She thought of Mrs. S’s hand tight around her own at the dinner table, the first real sign of vulnerability she’d seen from her foster mother. She thought of Helena’s hand, so small and rough with calluses and starvation-skinny fingers, reaching out for comfort. Of Sarah’s hand, a mirror of Helena’s, that lashed out instead of reached out, but still held onto Cosima’s hand desperately, afraid to let go. Of Delphine’s hand, fingertips seeking Cosima’s pulse, checking for it even when Delphine was meant to be resting.

She thought of her own hand, and the tiny foot that had nudged it, and the tiny life that was going to be, the tiny life that she wanted so much to meet.

“Okay.”

“Cosima?”

“Okay,” she repeated, tearing her eyes away from their hands and looking into Delphine’s eyes instead. “Do it. Save me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Halfway, guys! We've made it halfway.
> 
> This makes almost nine months that I've worked on this story, and the response...has just been overwhelming. Beyond anything I expected. This story was meant to be around ten chapters in the beginning, if you can believe it. I was so scared at the start that nobody would read it, that my work would be for nothing, but you guys--all you readers, and especially the commenters--make it all worth it. I hope an extra-long chapter and my heartfelt, heartfelt thanks is enough of a thank you.
> 
> <3
> 
> You're all the best.


	13. Thirteen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for: medical procedures, discussions of war, hostage situation(s).

Delphine crouched on the floor of the lab, Stark’s camera angled so that it was pointing at the opposite side of the room as she counted vials of serum, checking their caps were tightly sealed before dropping them into her purse.

A leather shoe scuffed against the tile for a moment and Delphine froze, one hand slipping to her waistline. Someone coughed behind her and she whirled around, pulling the gun from the waistband of her skirt and pointing it at the figure behind her in one movement.

“Damnit, Delphine.”

“Howard.” Delphine’s grip slackened on the gun for half a heartbeat. “What are you doing here?”

“Come on, Delphine, don’t do that. Don’t.” Howard stood surprisingly casually for a man with a gun pointed at him, looking nothing but disappointed. “I thought you were doing something like this. I was really, really hoping you weren’t.” 

“Are you here to stop me or lecture me?” Delphine rose slowly, keeping the gun aimed at Howard as she did. “Take the purse. Put all but one of the vials of serum in it, then come with me.” 

“Or what?” 

“Or I’ll shoot you.”

“Will you?” Howard raised an eyebrow, eyes focused on Delphine’s face, not the gun. 

“You know I will.” 

Howard stared at her and Delphine stared coolly back, hands steady on the gun.

Howard took the purse.

“How long have you been planning this?” he asked, still unruffled even as he stole serum at gunpoint. “A month? Two? This isn’t something you do on a whim.” 

Delphine didn’t answer. 

“I can’t see Niehaus approving of this plan,” Howard continued, and Delphine’s grip on the gun tightened. “At least not at first. What were you going to do? Wait until she was too sick to object but healthy enough for the serum to heal, and force her into the injection?”

“Shut up, Howard.” 

“So that is your plan. Betray a dear friend and the woman you love, lie to them, manipulate them--to keep her alive for her, or for you?” 

“You don’t want to play that game with me,” Delphine bit out. “You and I are the same, Howard. You know that you are out for your own gain, the same as I am. How many people could you have saved from destitution and _worse_ if you wanted? How many families--how many _children,_ how many could you have evacuated out of France, with your resources? But you didn’t. You took out one woman, the woman who could help you, and left the rest behind. You tell me, Howard, that if you had only one thing left, that you wouldn’t burn the world down to save it.”

“You can’t get away with this. They’re going to catch you.” He didn’t phrase it as a threat, but instead a simple fact. “You’re going to be punished. Severely.”

“That doesn’t matter.” 

“They could deport you.” 

“I know.” Her breathing hitched for a moment, but nothing else in Delphine’s stance wavered. “I’ll deal with that if it comes.”

“If she found out how long you’ve been planning this--how far you were willing to go--she might not forgive you,” Howard said, the purse now full of serum held out toward Delphine.

Delphine took the purse and gestured for Howard to leave the room before her, holding the purse close to her body as if she was cradling an infant. The gun remained pointed at Howard in her free hand.

“If she is alive to do that, it doesn’t matter.”

Howard sighed, looking at Delphine with some strange mix of admiration and pity in his eyes before he turned around and let Delphine direct him out of the lab and into a car parked outside.

“I don’t need to ask where you want me to drive you to, do I?” 

“I stole several of your inventions and some sensitive internal documents,” Delphine replied, watching the road as Howard drove. “If you call for help, or run, or anything to compromise this, they will be either destroyed or made public.”

“Did it never occur to you to just ask for help?” Howard asked as he parked across the street from an unimposing antique shop. Delphine hid her gun in the waistband of her skirt and didn’t answer.

“Lovely day, isn’t it?” 

“Yes, but I always carry an umbrella.”

The old woman behind the counter who looked as put together as someone going to church on Sunday morning hit the secret button behind the counter, and Delphine smiled tightly as she followed Howard down to the facility. 

“Awfully late for a visit, Mr. Stark.” 

“We’re here to make a few last minute checks. All routine,” Delphine interrupted, glancing meaningfully back toward the door. The old woman looked like there was something she wanted to say for a moment, but instead she nodded and moved back into the store, the secret door shutting behind her.

“I need you to set up for the procedure,” Delphine said as soon as the door was shut, her hand drifting back to the place where her gun was stashed. “I’m going to get Cosima. If you leave, or notify anyone--” 

“You’ll ruin me or cripple Stark Industries, I know.” Howard moved over to the computers, starting to boot them up. “You’re crippling the war effort as it is.” 

“If it goes to plan, no I am not,” Delphine countered. “More serum can easily be made. You will have your super soldiers to kill Hitler soon enough.” 

“You were right,” Howard said after a long moment. “We are pretty alike.”

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Cosima.”

Cosima groaned, leaning into the gentle hand caressing her cheek.

“Cosima, _ma cherie,_ it’s time.”

Cosima blinked, opening her eyes to see Delphine, her face practically glowing with soft affection and a bit of gentle worry.

“I’m sorry to wake you,” Delphine said, “But it’s just after seven, and Howard is making the facility ready. This is our best time.”

“Howard? Stark’s helping?” Cosima rasped, her lungs crackling with every breath she took. Delphine helped her hold the mask in place as she struggled to sit up.

“I ran into him at the lab. We’ve come to an arrangement. Officially, he isn’t involved at all.”

Cosima nodded her understanding, her head resting on Delphine’s shoulder and Delphine’s arm wrapped around her holding her up. One hand still holding the mask in place, her free hand sought Delphine’s and entangled their fingers. 

“Cosima,” Delphine murmured, moving so her cheek rested on top of Cosima’s head. “I need to know that you know--this serum is so experimental and you are so ill--”

“It could kill me. I know.” Cosima coughed and managed a half shrug. “But hey, I’m dying already, right? Can’t make me much more dead.”

“Cosima,” Delphine half-scolded, running her thumb along Cosima’s hand.

“Sorry. Bad joke.” Cosima sobered, lowering the mask from her face and tilting her head to look Delphine in the eye. “Hey, Delphine? I’m glad I met you.”

“Despite all of this?” 

“More like because of all this.” Cosima aimed for a joking tone, but ended up serious. “I wouldn’t trade it for anything.”

“I am glad I met you too, _ma cherie,”_ Delphine said, leaning forward and brushing her lips over Cosima’s forehead. “I am so glad.” 

A small childish part of Cosima wanted to just stay there forever, safe with Delphine’s arms around her, and let the real world pass the both of them by. As if she and Delphine could hide under blankets together, and things like cancer and the war would be thwarted like bogeymen. 

It was supremely unfair that life didn’t work like that.

“We need to get moving,” Delphine breathed and Cosima nodded, taking one last steadying breath from the oxygen mask before setting it aside. “I brought you some clothes to change into.”

“I guess a girl in a hospital gown sneaking into a top-secret facility would raise a few eyebrows, huh?” Cosima asked, using Delphine as support while she slipped on her clothes. She had never quite hated the many layers women’s fashion required until she was trying to put them all on quickly with lungs that weren’t really functioning.

“Are you all right?” 

Cosima nodded, her breathing coming in short pants. Wordlessly, Delphine wrapped her arm around Cosima’s waist, supporting the shorter woman as they began to walk together out of the room.

And nearly ran into Scott.

“Scott, what--what are you doing here?” Cosima asked, eyes darting around as if looking for an escape route.

“Cosima, hey, I was coming by to drop off that book I mentioned--”

“Right, yeah, I’ll--I’ll get that later, thanks.”

“Wait,” Scott said, moving to block Cosima and Delphine as they tried to escape down the hallway. “You guys are up to something.” 

“Scott, we don’t have time--”

“Is it Project Rebirth?” 

Both Cosima and Delphine went very still, staring at Scott with wide eyes. Scott stared back at both of them, crossing his arms and doing his best to look intimidating.

“How do you know that name?” Delphine asked, her arm tightening around Cosima’s waist.

“I-I heard it once, just in passing, and I’m pretty sure I never saw the guy who mentioned it again,” Scott said, his gaze stuttering around the hallway as he spoke in an attempt to check for prying eyes. “But the military has never been good at code names, right? So I figured, it’s some secret effort having to do with super strength or invulnerability or something. Basically something out of Shelly. But then Cosima gets sick, but she doesn’t--I mean, cancer yes, but the radiation basically didn’t affect you at all. Plus all of Stark Hospital’s best doctors and _the_ Howard Stark are keeping super close tabs on your weirdly stable condition. The recent termination of treatment didn’t make sense but--”

“Scott, I’m sorry, we _really_ don’t have time to explain this,” Cosima said, her sight going spotty around the edges as she leaned almost all of her weight on Delphine. “Just...don’t tell anyone you saw us--”

“I’m in.”

“You...what?”

“Whatever you guys are doing! I’m in,” he said, spreading his arms wide. Delphine and Cosima glanced at each other before looking back at him.

“Scott...” Cosima said slowly, “What we’re doing right now...isn’t, um, legal, exactly. You could get in some very serious trouble with very scary people.” 

“Yeah, but it’ll help you, right?” Cosima and Delphine stared at him blankly, and he elaborated. “Doctor Cormier’s helping, which means that it must be good for you in some way. She wouldn’t be helping you otherwise. And you’re really sick, and my friend, and I want you to get better. So this’ll help you, right?”

“...Yes,” Delphine answered for Cosima. “We hope it will.” 

“Then I’m in,” Scott said, shrugging. “A-and I’m not letting you leave without me. So...there.”

“Guess Scott’s coming,” Cosima huffed, her smile a fraction of the size of her usual grin but still undeniably there. “Come on, Scotty.”

“So…” Scott said as they started down the hallway again. “What is Project Rebirth, anyway?”

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------

“I always carry an umbrella.”

The old woman behind the counter raised an eyebrow at them--Cosima, coughing and clinging to Delphine, Scott bewildered and wide-eyed, and Delphine leading them--but she let them pass without comment.

“Scott, Howard is down there finishing up the last preparations, go help him,” Delphine said, locking the doors once they made it to the landing overlooking the lab. Scott scurried down the stairs immediately, even as he tried to gawk at everything. 

“This is really happening, huh,” Cosima asked, a wave of dizziness washing over her and her vision whiting out. Delphine deftly lowered her to the ground, cradling the brunette’s head protectively. 

“Breathe,” Delphine said, her heartbeat loud in Cosima’s ear. “I have you. I’m here.” 

“Delphine,” Cosima gasped, not sure what she wanted to say after that. _How did we end up here, I’m sorry, I love you, I’m terrified, I love you, I don’t want to die, I don’t want to die._ “Delphine.” 

“I’m here,” Delphine said, pressing kiss after kiss to Cosima’s face as Cosima’s ragged breathing gradually slowed. “I’m here.” 

“You two alright up there?” Howard called, he and Scott both squinting up at the landing with matching looks of concern.

“Fine,” Delphine called back, helping Cosima sit up against the wall. “I need you to take off your clothes--down to your slip.”

“So forward,” Cosima teased half-heartedly, fingers fumbling on the dress buttons. After said fingers slipped a second time, Delphine reached forward and unbuttoned it herself, ignoring Cosima’s embarrassed grin.

“Y’know, I imagined you undressing me a lot after the first time,” Cosima commented as Delphine helped her shrug out of her dress, leaving her shivering in a white slip. “Didn’t imagine it quite like this.”

“Life is funny, _ma cherie,”_ Delphine said, taking off her lab coat and wrapping Cosima in it like a blanket.

“And short,” Cosima sighed, snuggling into the coat and breathing in the scent of roses and French perfume. A cough built in her chest but came out as wheeze, Cosima too exhausted to actually cough. She looked at Delphine for a moment--she looked like something angelic, blonde curls framing a face of equal parts guilt, worry, and love--before reaching out and tugging gently on a lock of hair, making Delphine look her in the eye before pulling her in for a kiss.

Cosima knew her lips were no longer touched with summer strawberries, and Delphine no longer tasted like red wine; instead Cosima’s lips tasted like copper and antiseptic, and Delphine’s were tainted with saltwater and desperation. But the kiss was sweet despite it all, both women holding onto each other like clinging to a sinking ship, and both women painfully aware that it could be their last one. 

Cosima ended it when dizziness threatened to overwhelm her again, ducking her head so she could take a few gulps of air but not leaving Delphine’s embrace.

“Why Doctor Cormier,” she said once her vision had cleared. “You took my breath away.”

Delphine laughed, short and startled, and Cosima grinned, one hand still resting on Delphine’s shoulder.

“Have you been waiting to use that line, cheeky girl?”

“Maybe.” Cosima twisted one of Delphine’s curls around her finger, smiling softly even as the mood became somber again. “You’ll be the death of me, Delphine.” 

“Cosima…” 

“Ladies,” Howard Stark interrupted, with none of his usual cockiness and, for once, looking genuinely apologetic. “We’re ready.” 

Both Cosima and Delphine froze for an instant, arms still around each other, Cosima wondering if she could ask for five minutes more, as if she was merely being woken up for school. Delphine was the first to move, shifting from a seated position to a crouch with her arm behind Cosima’s back for support.

“Do you think you can make it down the stairs?”

“Um…” Cosima bit her lip, staring at the two flights of metal stairs that led down to the lab. “Considering how hard walking here was…”

“I understand.” Delphine hesitated, then slipped her free arm underneath Cosima’s legs, lifting the brunette in one smooth movement and hugging Cosima protectively to her chest.

There were a hundred comments Cosima could’ve made in that moment, most of them the kind of lewd that would’ve turned Scott bright red. Instead, she closed her eyes and relaxed into Delphine’s arms, quietly marvelling at how safe she felt and how easy it was, if she tried, to pretend that nothing could hurt her anymore.

She felt like she was home.

Cosima opened her eyes as Delphine lowered her into the machine she’d helped design, pulling off Delphine’s lab coat and offering it back to the blonde. Howard crossed over, smiling down at her as Scott lowered the paddles full of needles for the microinjections over her chest.

“I don’t need to explain this to you, do I, Niehaus?”

“Are you kidding? Half this stuff was my idea.” Stark smirked and Cosima smiled tightly back, turning to stare at the ceiling while Stark and Scott walked over to the main controls, Scott smiling in a way that was meant to be reassuring as he walked by.

His nerves meant that the smile looked like he was constipated, but Cosima appreciated the sentiment.

Delphine slipped her hand into Cosima’s and pulled a chair over to sit next to the machine. She pressed a kiss to the back of Cosima’s hand, her thumb brushing over Cosima’s knuckles.

“Ready?” Cosima nodded, not trusting her voice. Delphine squeezed her hand once before turning to face Stark. “Begin the microinjections.”

Cosima winced as the blue serum rushed into her muscles, her eyes squeezing shut and her hand closing, white-knuckled, around Delphine’s. Delphine whispered something low and encouraging, but the words were lost as Cosima rode out the pain.

“All right?” 

Cosima nodded, body aching and chest heaving. Delphine stood hesitantly, her smile forced and her eyes worried. 

“Then this is where I leave you, _mon amour.”_

Delphine stood and leaned forward, kissing Cosima once more before taking Cosima’s glasses off, tucking them securely in her pocket. As she straightened up, Cosima reached up and managed to catch Delphine’s wrist, holding her close for a few heartbeats more.

“Delphine,” she said, hoping she was smiling. “I’ll see you on the other side.” 

“Yes,” Delphine said, her face too blurred for Cosima to make out, but something trembling in the taller woman’s voice. “I’ll see you soon, Cosima.”

Delphine’s heels clicked loudly against the tile as she stepped back, and the machine tilted and whirred, moving Cosima into a vertical position, and then closing around her. 

“Begin, Mr. Stark,” Delphine said, staring at the metal capsule with Cosima inside, her voice steady. Howard nodded and slowly began to turn one of the many dials.

“That’s ten...twenty percent of the Vita-Rays,” he announced, bright light beginning to shine from the window of the capsule. Delphine was forced to look away. “Thirty percent.”

“Vital signs are still normal,” Scott called from where he was bent over a monitor. 

“Forty percent. Fifty.”

“Is someone at the door?” Delphine turned to face where Scott was looking, the doors at the top of the stairs indeed shaking with the force of someone pounding at them.

“Scott, you need to hide,” Delphine said, pulling her gun out and running over to where he was standing. _“Now.”_

Scott ran, and Delphine quickly took his place, watching the spikes of Cosima’s heartrate grow faster. The pounding on the door was louder now, muffled shouting coming from behind it.

“Sixty percent,” Howard said, glancing between the machines and the door. “Seventy--”

The door flew open and revealed Agent Peggy Carter, a team of SSR agents behind her. 

“Shut it down, Howard!” she shouted, gun cocked and pointing directly at him.

“He shuts it down and I shoot him!” Delphine shouted back, stepping forward and pointing her own gun at Howard’s head. Agent Carter’s aim switched from Howard to Delphine as she jumped down the stairs. 

“Doctor Cormier, put it down.” 

Delphine stepped closer to Howard and pressed the gun barrel into the back of his head, staring Agent Carter directly in the eye. The other SSR agents reached the bottom of the stairs and got into position, guns aimed at Delphine.

“Cormier, put it _down.”_

Inside the capsule, Cosima began to scream.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact: All of Cosima's experiences with lung cancer are based on my experiences with asthma and pneumonia. It's not fun. Take care of yourselves and get flu shots!
> 
> As always, comments and criticism (here or on tumblr at probablytatiana) are 110% encouraged. <3


	14. Fourteen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for: Medical procedures, hostage situations, mentions of war and torture.

“Shut it down!” Agent Carter shouted, _“NOW!”_

Everyone was now staring at the capsule with varying levels of confusion and horror, but Peggy didn’t miss the way Delphine’s hands, so steady on the gun before, began to shake. 

“Cosima! _Cosima!”_ Delphine yelled, feet rooted in place even as she stared at the metal box with Cosima inside, her eyes beginning to sting. _“Ma cherie,_ answer me!” 

“You’re killing her, Doctor Cormier!” 

“Don’t stop!” Cosima’s voice was almost as painful to listen to as her screams, the superhuman effort it was taking for her to speak obvious in the strain of her voice. “I can handle it! You _can't_ stop!” 

The room was plunged into tense silence after Cosima stopped speaking, the absence of Cosima’s screams making Delphine’s ears ring. Her gun was still pressed into the back of Howard’s head and the other guns in the room were still pointed at her.

“Full power, Mr. Stark.” 

“Delphine…”

 _“Now,_ Howard.”

Howard glanced across the room to the team of SSR agents for a moment, then began turning the dial again.

“Eighty percent….that’s ninety percent.”

“You’re making a grave mistake, Doctor Cormier,” Peggy called across the room, wanting desperately to cross the room and shut down the test but unwilling to put Howard’s life at risk.

“I’m doing what I have to,” Delphine spat back, her hazel eyes flashing dangerously as they met Peggy’s deep brown and equally determined ones.

“One hundred percent.”

Howard pulled his hand back as something on the control panel sparked and singed his fingers.

“What’s wrong?”

The room was thrown into chaos in the next moment as sparks showered down from the wiring, machines flashing warning lights before shorting out entirely and the confused shouts of soldiers, overwhelmed by Agent Carter’s shout of _“Hold your fire!”_

And then it was quiet, the bright lights of the Vita-Rays and machine monitors dying out entirely. The SSR agents huddled behind Agent Carter on one side of the room, and Delphine and Howard stood on the other, the sealed metal capsule between them.

“Cosima?”

With a whirr and a hiss of air, the capsule’s doors opened and Delphine rushed over, gun forgotten in her hand. Fog rushed out, temporarily obscuring the figure inside.

“Cosima?”

The mist cleared and Cosima blinked, squinting as someone found the switch for the overhead lights and made the room clinically bright.

“Holy shit.” 

“How are you feeling?” Delphine asked, a bit of the tension draining out of her face at Cosima’s very Cosima-like words.

“Incredible,” Cosima replied, staring at her own hands for a moment before reaching out and taking the hand Delphine offered her and stepping out of the capsule entirely. “My head's clear. I can _breathe._ Holy shit, have you ever realized how wonderful breathing feels? It’s _awesome.”_

“I will make a note of it,” Delphine said, a small relieved giggle creeping into her voice. She tucked the gun away to free her hands and rubbed Cosima’s arms and face in a way that was half-clinical and half-caressing, anxious to hold Cosima however she could. “Any dizziness? Discomfort?”

“No, not at all,” Cosima said, flexing a suddenly muscular arm. “It worked.” 

“It did,” said Delphine, with eyes for nothing but Cosima. “It did.” 

The click of guns recocking shattered the moment.

“Delphine Cormier,” Agent Carter said, her voice steely again. ‘You are under arrest--” 

“Hey, woah, woah, what’s going on?” Cosima stepped between Agent Carter and Delphine, only for Delphine to quickly step forward and throw a protective arm over Cosima’s chest. “She just saved my life.” 

“She stole government technology--” 

“Okay, she can’t really steal it if she was working on it--” 

“Used it without orders or permission--”

“She proved it works--” 

“And held Howard Stark hostage.” 

“Okay,” Cosima said, “That...is true. But it’s _Stark,_ he probably gets off on that--” 

“If I could,” Howard interrupted quickly, one hand rubbing at the spot where Delphine’s gun had been pressed. “This is bad, yes, and I’m as annoyed with being taken hostage as you are, Pegs. But there is still serum back at the lab, we can produce more and only have to push back Steve’s procedure a day, if that. And she was trying to save a life. I’ll take it out of her pay, slap her on the wrist, call it even.”

“The situation has changed,” Agent Carter replied, and Howard’s demeanor sobered immediately.

“What’s happened?”

“Erskine is dead.” 

_“What?”_ It was Cosima who made the outburst, stepping forward and around Delphine’s protective arm. “When?” 

“This evening, probably around when your procedure started.” The SSR agents were beginning to fidget and Agent Carter sighed. “Go secure the exits and check for any enemy agents. You two, guard that door and be ready to apprehend Miss Cormier.” 

“Shouldn’t we just take her in now?”

“They have a right to know what happened to their friend,” Agent Carter replied, turning back to Howard, Delphine and Cosima and wordlessly dismissing the men.

“We believe there was a sleeper cell of Hydra agents in New York,” she explained once the soldiers had moved away, looking at Cosima with a mixture of sympathy and wonder and at Delphine with unmasked suspicion. “Hydra being the science division of Hitler’s Nazi party. Somehow they became aware of Project Rebirth, or at least that there was a secret project based here. Miss Cormier’s actions tonight must have alerted them that something was going on. My team and I were delayed earlier when we came here to find one of them upstairs in the antique shop. He was neutralized.”

“And the old woman?” 

Carter shook her head sadly, and Cosima felt bile rise in her throat.

“From what we can tell, another group of Hydra agents had gone to the Stark Industries lab, most likely to steal the research and serum for themselves. Erskine had gone there to ensure everything was ready for tomorrow and confronted them.” 

“Did they get anything?” Cosima asked hoarsely, knowing how the fight between elderly Erskine and a team of Nazi agents ended and not wanting to hear the details.

“No,” Carter said, and behind them Howard sighed in relief. “It’s unclear whether it was accidental or Erskine did it deliberately, but a fire consumed the lab. Efforts to put it out are ongoing, but any research or samples have been destroyed. The Hydra agents as well.”

They all fell silent, Cosima’s hand automatically seeking Delphine’s as she tried to process the influx of information. Erskine, the brilliant and enthusiastic old man who’d taken her seriously from the moment Stark had led her into the lab despite her gender and had a mind unlike anyone in the world, was dead. Nazis--Hydra agents--who were meant to be overseas in Europe, some faceless plague of evil an ocean away, were in New York. Had been in her lab, had been _upstairs_ and, were it not for Agent Carter and her team, could’ve killed her.

The research she’d devoted months to was gone and destroyed forever.

The serum she’d devoted her life to had burned, and now existed only in her bloodstream.

“So you can understand that we have some questions for Miss Cormier,” Carter continued finally, Delphine stiffening at Cosima’s side. “At the very least, she stole and used sensitive and secret government property and held a civilian hostage. But in light of recent events, we also need to investigate her for ties to Hydra--” 

“Okay, Peggy, this has gone far enough,” Howard said, stepping forward at last. “I can tell you, with 100% confidence, that Delphine is _not_ a Hydra agent.”

“Your faith in the woman who had a gun pressed to your head less than ten minutes ago is heartwarming, Howard.”

“You should’ve seen what Ginger Rogers did when I tried to get her to leave the penthouse,” he replied, seemingly unaffected by Agent Carter’s unimpressed look. “All of us here know what they’re gonna decide to do with her--interrogate her for months looking for information she doesn’t have, then deport her to France. _Nazi occupied_ France. They’re not going to treat her kindly, especially when they find out what she was doing for us. And when they find out that she’s--well. The information Hitler’s going to want, she has. And they’ll do anything to get it.” 

Cosima quickly picked up on his meaning and took two steps closer to Agent Carter, eyes blazing.

“There’s no way in _hell_ I’m letting that happen.” 

“It won’t happen, Niehaus. I know you’re all hopped up on super soldier serum, but simmer down.” Cosima took a half-step backward, still glaring, and Howard continued. “I’m not saying she’s going to go unpunished, but we both know that the government can be supremely thick-headed when it comes to, oh, anything important. Just let me handle this.” 

“How, exactly, do you plan to swing this by the senators?” Carter asked finally, still skeptical.

“You realize how much bad PR it would be to not only have one super soldier instead of an army, but to have the woman responsible for ensuring that we at least have one super soldier either locked in a prison or hand-delivered to Hitler? Believe me, they’ll see things my way.”

There were a few beats of silence as Carter thought, Cosima watching with bated breath and trying to determine a way for her to use her new super-strength and escape with Delphine just in case.

“I’ll be taking Miss Cormier into custody for tonight,” Carter said finally, holstering her gun. “But I’ll do my best to delay any questions or charges pressed until we hear from the government. Whatever you’re going to do, do it fast Howard.” 

Cosima had to bite down her objections as Agent Carter handcuffed Delphine, the logical part of her mind reminding her that this was the best possible outcome. Delphine, for her part, didn’t look concerned--her face had gone strangely blank when Agent Carter had accused her of being a Hydra agent, and the mask was still in place as the agent took her arm and began to direct her toward the door.

“Wait.” 

Cosima took two quick steps forward and kissed Delphine, standing on her tiptoes so she could cup her hands around the taller woman’s cheeks the way Delphine usually did hers.

“I’ll see you soon, yeah?”

“Of course,” Delphine breathed, worry and fondness warring in her eyes. Cosima grinned, grateful to see emotion in Delphine’s face again. She stepped back just as the two soldiers from the door stepped over, each taking one of Delphine’s arms and pulling her toward the door.

“What?” Cosima challenged when she saw Agent Carter looking at her. “We’re just _really good friends.”_

“Come on, Niehaus,” Howard said, rolling his eyes. Once the agents had all left, he added in a raised voice, “SMITH!” 

“Is it safe?” Scott asked, sticking his head out from a dark back corner of the lab.

“The big scary agents are all gone,” Cosima said, stretching and reveling in the feeling of her smooth movements and breathing.

“Are you disappointed, Smith?” Howard asked, squinting at Scott’s expression. 

“Not exactly,” he said, glancing back at his hiding spot. “I-it’s just that, when it sounded like they were going to arrest Doctor Cormier, I started working on a distraction, and was kind of hoping to see if it worked. Actually, let me take it apart quick before I go,” he added quickly, jogging back over to where he’d been hiding.

“Is it dangerous?”

“Um, if it doesn’t work, no!”

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Okay, so have you noticed any...unusual feelings or sensations? Anything that doesn’t match up with what you would expect to feel, based on your research?” Scott asked, clipboard in front of him, as a nurse drew vial after vial of blood from Cosima.

“Well, asking a mouse how he feels is difficult, so it’s hard to say,” Cosima said, flexing her fingers. “But, uh, everything feels good. Breathing is clear and easy, muscle movement is smooth and painless, no chest pains or anything. I can see fine, which is new, seeing as my vision was crap before. I didn’t grow, which is a major disappointment, but I think that’s because so much energy was spent on reversing the effects of the cancer. If Delphine hadn’t been arrested, she could probably tell us more.”

A short silence followed Cosima’s pointed comment, punctuated by the sound of Scott writing and the clink of blood vials. The nurse efficiently removed the needle and capped the last blood vial, taking the small basket of blood and leaving the room.

“I _said--”_

“I heard you, Miss Niehaus.” Colonel Chester Phillips stood in the corner of the room, military stance abandoned for slumped shoulders and an exasperated scowl. “However, I am subject to the government’s whims the same as the rest of us.”

Cosima scowled back at him, rubbing at the arm she’d had blood taken from.

“Hey, Scott, another effect of the serum--you can lose like, a gallon of blood, and be unaffected.”

“I don’t think they took a gallon,” Scott muttered, but scribbled something down anyway.

“Felt like a gallon,” Cosima said, poking at the bruise with interest. She watched the blue-purple smudge shrink before her eyes with barely a whisper of pain. “Hey, did you see that?”

“That’s incredible,” breathed Scott, leaning in to look at Cosima’s elbow.

“It feels so weird.” Cosima poked again at the now-pink skin, flexing the muscles beneath it. “What do you think of that, Colonel?”

“I think I would rather like the platoon of super-soldiers that I was promised,” Phillips replied, scowl set even deeper in his lined face. 

“Well, you’ve got me.”

“Yes, one uppity girl. You’re not exactly what I was hoping for.” 

“It’s better than nobody, isn’t it?” Cosima folded her arms, undaunted by the Colonel’s frown. “And I can fire a gun as well as any man.”

“Please,” Phillips scoffed. “You’re going nowhere near the front. A lady oddity like you isn’t a soldier, she’s a test subject.”

“Excuse me?” Hackles fully raised now, Cosima’s voice was pointed and low. Scott tried unsuccessfully to melt into the background. “I am a person and a scientist, thank you. My body is my own, not some group of military doctor’s!” 

“Miss Niehaus--” 

“I’m not interested!” Phillips stared at her, unused to being interrupted. “My body, and it’s my decision what to do with it. The only reason I started working on this project was to serve my country, and now I have the perfect body to do it with. I’m going to the front or nowhere.”

“You are not in a bargaining position, Miss Niehaus.”

“I think I am.” A cunning gleam lit up Cosima’s eyes. “I’m rather valuable to you, aren’t I? The only traces of the serum left in the world are in my blood. I’m the only super soldier. So I say that I want to fight at the front. And that the only other scientist I’m letting near my body is Doctor Delphine Cormier. You try to get anyone else to study me, and I go to the press with a story of the military abducting and experimenting on an innocent American girl.”

Colonel Phillips sighed heavily, looking very much like a man who wanted nothing more than a very, very stiff drink. 

“Is she always like this?” he asked Scott, who nodded nervously.

“S-she’s better with Doctor Cormier around, though.” 

Phillips sighed again, going to rub at a forming headache.

“I’ll see what I can do.”

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Thank you, Howard.” Delphine rubbed at her right wrist as the two of them walked out of SSR headquarters. “You did not have to--”

“You’re damn right I didn’t.” Delphine quickly fell silent, walking a few steps behind Howard. “Damnit, Delphine, why?”

“I--” 

“I don’t mean why did you do it,” he cut her off quickly, running an angry hand through his hair. “I know why you did it. Why didn’t you come to me?” 

“I…” Delphine cut herself off this time, words dying in her throat. “You could’ve been arrested.” 

“You really think the US government would arrest their top weapons dealer and developer, right in the middle of the war? I’m basically immune. I could’ve _helped.”_

“I was _protecting_ you!”

“You held a gun to my head, Delphine!” Delphine took a half-step backward in the face of his rage. “You stole my inventions, you lied to me, you threatened me! That sure as hell doesn’t feel like protection.” 

The two of them stood at the curb, streetlamps sparkling around them. Howard gestured for his car, with Jarvis inside, to come closer, while Delphine looked anywhere but at him. 

“I thought France proved to you--" Howard stopped, shaking his head. "I’m the best damn thing that ever happened to you, Delphine. And I’m your _friend._ Learn to trust again. Or at least how to ask for some damn help.” 

He turned and marched down the sidewalk, leaving Delphine alone on the pavement. 

“Doctor Cormier?” Jarvis stuck his head out of the driver’s side window, forehead furrowed in concern. “Mr. Stark said I might offer you a ride back to your house.” 

“T-thank you,” Delphine said, one hand still rubbing her wrist. “But I think I’ll walk.” 

“But it’s late--” Delphine walked away without a word, the night quickly swallowing her black-coated figure.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Cosima crept as quietly as she could down the hallway leading to her family apartment, shifting uncomfortably in her dress. That morning, the dress had hung loosely off her, but the fabric now felt stretched uncomfortably tight across her new muscles. She struggled to regulate both her footsteps and her breathing--she was still unused to deep, clear breaths after so long without them, and kept feeling herself go dizzy from too much oxygen.

The apartment door always stuck a bit, and Cosima unlocked the door before putting her shoulder against it to provide the bit of force it always needed.

The sound of creaking wood and groaning metal split the air as the door itself nearly split in half, and Cosima stumbled through and fell heavily to the ground, the heavy thud and floorboard’s cry adding to the cacophony.

_“Shit.”_

“Who’s there?” Mrs. S stepped forward and turned on the hallway lamp, a rifle in hand. The silhouettes of the other siblings were visible behind her, half leaning forward in curiosity and half huddled in caution. 

“Please don’t shoot me.” 

“Cosima?” Mrs. S lowered the rifle, staring incredulously. “Did you dent the floorboards?”

“...Maybe.” Cosima picked herself up, wincing at the damage. “Um...I’ll fix it?”

 _“How_ did you dent the floorboards?”

 _“Cos?”_

Sarah shoved past her siblings, her wide eyes meeting Cosima’s. 

“Hey,” Cosima said, raising her hand in a half-wave. Sarah stared at her, mouth slightly agape. “So, um--” 

Cosima found herself engulfed by a pregnant brunette.

“Sarah?”

“What the _hell,_ Cos?” Sarah pulled away just far enough to smack Cosima in the bicep. “And where the hell did you get muscles? Where are your glasses?”

“Aren’t you supposed to be travelling with your company or something?” Tony piped up. “And is the door broken?”

“Yeah…” Cosima said, rubbing one arm awkwardly and feeling the well-defined muscle there. “There’s, um, some things I need to tell you guys.” 

“Well,” Mrs. S said finally, setting the rifle down next to the umbrella stand. “I’ll make a cuppa, shall I?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have a (bit of a) reprieve from the angst! I hope you enjoyed, and as always, comments and criticism are welcomed and encouraged either here or on tumblr (probablytatiana). See you guys next week! <3


	15. Fifteen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for: Fight scenes, discussions of war, food.

“Delphine!” 

Cosima ran across the gym, grinning widely at the sight of a familiar blonde figure, spreading her arms wide and going in for a hug.

It ended with Delphine flat on her back with the wind knocked out of her, and Cosima apologizing profusely.

“Shit, _shit,_ are you okay, say something, I’m sorry, totally not used to this super-strength thing yet.”

“It’s...fine,” Delphine wheezed, rubbing her head as she sat up. 

“No, it’s totally not okay, you spent all night in a cell and I just made you wipe out, I’m so sorry.” Cosima scrambled to her feet and offered Delphine a hand up. Delphine accepted, and found herself nearly falling--again--when Cosima helped her stand a bit too enthusiastically.

“This is what I’m talking about, Cosima.” Agent Carter’s clipped British tones broke in as she crossed the room. “You need to adjust to and control your new strength.” 

“Yeah, yeah, I definitely see that now.” Cosima blinked, having somehow found herself between Delphine and Agent Carter. The two taller women were engaging in some sort of silent staring war above her head. “Um, Delphine, this is--well, I mean, you know Peggy.” 

“Peggy?” Delphine asked, breaking the stare to look at Cosima.

“Saying ‘Agent’ all the time gets cumbersome,” she explained with a shrug.

“Miss Cormier.” Agent Carter was still looking at Delphine, her lips pulled back into a tight red smile that Cosima was glad she was not on the receiving end of. “Are you joining us? I was just working on helping Cosima become combat ready.” 

“Thank you. That’s very kind, Miss Carter.” Delphine’s smile was like brittle glass. “But I was simply coming to assure Cosima that I was all right. Unfortunately, I have other duties to attend to.”

“Surely Howard has no need for you _now._ It’s the middle of the day.” 

“I have many duties, Miss Carter, and few of them are the sort of thing you would understand.” Her eyes fell on Cosima again, and Delphine’s whole stance seemed to relax as she reach out to gently skim her thumb over Cosima’s cheekbone. _“À tout à l’heure, ma cherie.”_

“Yeah. Later,” Cosima said, and Delphine smiled before pressing a quick kiss to either of Cosima’s cheeks. She walked out of the room immediately after, Cosima’s eyes trailing her until a pointed cough from Peggy made her turn back around.

“Sorry,” she said, not at all apologetically. “Where were we?” 

“We were talking about the advantage of size,” Peggy said. “Now, you are a woman. You are shorter than even I am. Which means you have two points in your favor.”

“Not from where I’m standing.” 

“You have the two qualities that will make you invisible.” Something changed in Peggy’s tone, and Cosima found herself listening closer. “They will dismiss you, laugh at you, turn their back on you. And that is how you will win.” 

Cosima suddenly found herself on the floor, face pressed into the ground and Peggy’s elbow pressed to her neck.

“Did you see what I did?” 

“No,” panted Cosima, wriggling uselessly underneath Peggy.

“Right.” The weight on top of her lifted and Cosima sprung to her feet, pulling herself into a fighting stance that only seemed to amuse Peggy. “Then we’ll do it again until you do.”

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------

“I’m not even _sore,”_ Cosima marvelled, swinging her arms back and forth as she walked down the street with Delphine. “I swear, she slammed me down at least fifty times, and I’m not even bruised anymore.”

“And your breathing is okay? No shortness of breath, no dizziness--” 

“I’m fine, Delphine, really.” 

“You’re wearing your glasses again. Are you having trouble seeing?” 

“These are lensless, actually,” Cosima admitted, taking them off to show Delphine. “After wearing the stupid things for years, I kinda felt naked without them, so I popped the lenses out of my spare pair. They’re kinda my signature look, after all.” 

“Oh, that reminds me, I still have a pair of your glasses in my lab coat--” 

“Keep ‘em,” Cosima said, waving a dismissive hand. “It’s not like I need them anyway.” 

“You’re sure you’re feeling all right?” Delphine asked, reaching out to check Cosima for a fever.

“I’m _fine.”_ Cosima pushed Delphine’s hand off her forehead and entwined their fingers instead. “Doctor Cormier’s hot and all, but let’s just be Delphine and Cosima, going out for dinner, okay?” 

“Okay.” Delphine squeezed Cosima’s hand, her face relaxing into a warm smile. “Where are we going for dinner, _ma cherie?”_

“Yeah, about that…” Cosima bit her lip, glancing at Delphine nervously. “You remember how I mentioned a while ago that my family really wanted to meet you?” 

“...Yes.” 

“Um, I may have told them you were coming over for dinner tonight.” 

“Cosima!” Delphine stopped suddenly in the middle of the sidewalk, Cosima stumbling to stop next to her. “But I don’t have a gift, I haven’t called ahead! I am not even presentable!” 

“Delphine, hey, relax. You look great, believe me.” She does, in a white shirtwaist dress cinched with a black belt that matches the black buttons and hugs her curves in a way that makes Cosima stop that train of thought immediately, given that they were in public. Delphine huffed and ran her fingers through her curls, patting down imaginary stray hairs.

“Perhaps I will stop and buy something on the way. When are they expecting us?” 

“In, uh, ten minutes.” 

_“Merde.”_ Delphine hesitated for a moment, apparently torn, before decisively pulling Cosima down the sidewalk. “We are going to get flowers. It’s going to be your fault that we’re late.” 

“Okay, okay,” Cosima laughed, pulling Delphine’s arm through hers and half-skipping down the sidewalk.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Only fifteen minutes late. Not too shabby, chicken.”

“Sorry, S. That was totally my fault.” Cosima and Delphine stood in the doorway of the familiar apartment, the sound of chatter and laughter filtering through to them from the kitchen down the hall. Cosima tries and fails to look repentant; Delphine holds the bouquet of tulips like a shield.

“I don’t doubt that.” Mrs. S looked at Delphine with a raised eyebrow before adding, “Cosima, go on and help your siblings in the kitchen. I want to talk to Delphine for a moment.” 

“Oh, uh…” 

“Now, love.” 

Cosima glanced at Delphine apologetically before ducking down the hall, her voice soon joining the chorus of others. Delphine suddenly felt that the tulips were terribly inadequate as Mrs. S focused all her attention on her.

“Mrs. Sadler, I--” 

“Cosima’s told me a lot about you, Delphine,” the Irish woman said as if Delphine hadn’t spoken. “And about the work you two do. Including all the bits that aren’t going to be in the papers once your spin doctors stop fussing over the article.”

Delphine inhaled and tried to square her shoulders and draw herself up. Her grip on the tulips was white-knuckled. “I--” 

“I understand that you’re the woman who delayed a project that could’ve ended this war. The war that’s taken my friends, my childhood home. The war that my son is fighting in and could be killed by.” 

Delphine’s face fell and settled into an impassive mask, the red tulips shifting in her hands. She did not try to speak again, to try and justify or make this woman--this mother--understand why she’d done what she had. It had been made clear to her, again and again, exactly how the world saw her and her actions. 

“I also understand,” Mrs. S added, in the barest whisper, “that you saved my daughter’s life.” 

Delphine looks up, bewildered by the sudden gratitude, and found herself wrapped in the arms of the older Irish woman, the embrace so tight it almost hurt.

“Thank you.” 

Mrs. S held Delphine, undeterred by how Delphine had almost flinched and went stiff the moment she’d been touched, or how it took several moments for Delphine’s shoulders to relax and her eyes to shut, her hands still white-knuckled on the tulip stems.

“I…” Hesitantly, Delphine stepped back, and Mrs. S let her. “I brought these,” Delphine said for lack of anything else to say, holding up the tulips that were now rather worse for wear.

“They’re lovely,” Mrs. S said, gently taking them from Delphine’s hands. “I’ll go find a vase for these--why don’t you go ahead to the kitchen, hm? I’ll be along in a bit.” 

Mrs. S bustled off to a side room, and with nothing else to do, Delphine walked down the narrow hallway toward the noisy room she assumed was the kitchen.

“Hey!” Cosima grinned widely when she saw Delphine enter, jumping up from where she’d been sitting at the table and beating Tony at arm wrestling. “Guys, this is Delphine. She’s...well, you know who she is.” 

“Ah, _bonjour,”_ Delphine said, “I think I’ve met most of you?” 

“You mean Sarah and Helena glared you down before you snuck off to the roof to make out with geek monkey,” Tony said, his grin as wide as Helena’s. “Nice to officially meet ya, sister-kisser.” 

“Tony,” a crisp voice admonished. Alison stepped forward and smacked Tony on the arm before smiling and extending a hand to Delphine. “Hello, Delphine. I’m Alison, and over there is my husband Donnie. It’s very nice to finally meet you.” 

“Ah, likewise,” Delphine said, shaking the shorter woman’s hand. 

“Cosima told us what you did for her,” Alison said, her voice quickly becoming tear-choked. “And while I’m still very upset she didn’t tell us how bad it was, thank you. For what you did for her.” 

“It was what anyone would do,” Delphine said, doing her best to deflect the praise. “Especially for Cosima. She is...very enchanting.” 

“Aww, babe,” Cosima said, giving Delphine a peck on the cheek and deepening it into a kiss when Tony and Sarah gagged.

“Alright, lovebirds, enough of that.” Mrs. S walked into the kitchen and grabbed a large salad bowl off the counter and handing it to Helena, who took it and licked her lips. “Sit down, pass it to the left and we have guests, Helena love, don’t eat it all.” 

Helena frowned, but took only a few spoonfuls of salad before passing the bowl to Sarah.

_“Left,_ Helena.” 

“Thank you,” Delphine said with a smile as Helena handed her the salad bowl.

“You have nice hairs,” Helena said, eyeing Delphine as she curled one hand around her fork. “Very yellow.” 

“Thank you.” Delphine sounded a little more uncertain now. “Your hair is also very yellow.” 

Helena smiled, slow and small, and she ducked her head to look at her salad instead of Delphine.

“You are very kind woman,” she said with a small nod. “I understand why _sestra_ Cosima looks at you like puppy.” 

On Delphine’s other side, Cosima choked on a mouthful of lettuce. “I do not--” 

“It is okay, _sestra._ She looks at you the same way.” 

Delphine and Cosima looked at each other while Helena happily dug in, Cosima’s hand seeking Delphine’s under the table.

“You’re the puppy,” she whispered, and Delphine grinned.

The table was packed, eight people crammed shoulder to shoulder in the small kitchen, but it was a pleasant kind of packed. Everyone was relaxed, Sarah and Tony ribbing at each other, Alison scolding Donnie for his table manners, Helena eating like there was no tomorrow, and Cosima and Delphine holding hands and talking softly to each other, while Mrs. S looked on.

Everyone deliberately avoided the topic of Cosima’s new strength, the war, and the brother who was missing.

“You don’t want any ham?” Cosima asked when she noticed Delphine had nothing but salad and bread on her plate.

“Ah, no, that’s fine. I’m not very hungry.” 

“You feeling okay? We can go.” 

“No, no,” Delphine said quickly, smiling reassuringly. “It’s fine. Your family is very bright. I don’t want to take you away from them.” 

“If you’re sure.” Cosima squeezed Delphine’s hand briefly before being pulled into a debate with Sarah, and Delphine found herself peppered with questions from Alison about French cuisine.

“Hey, S, can I talk to you for a minute?” Cosima asked once there was a lull in the conversation and the meal was teetering on the edge of dinner and dessert. 

“Of course, love. I have to go get the pudding cake from where I hid it so someone--” Helena grinned “--Wouldn’t eat it before dinner. Walk with me.” 

Cosima squeezed past her siblings and followed Mrs. S out of the kitchen.

“Where did you hide it this time?” 

“The linen closet, behind the bedsheets.” They reached the aforementioned closet and Cosima started pulling out sheets. “I’m running out of hiding places.” 

“She’s like a bloodhound,” Cosima said, and Mrs. S chuckled.

“That she is.” She pulled the cake out, still intact in its glass case, and Cosima started piling the bedsheets back in. “What was it you wanted to talk about, chicken?” 

“Um, I met with the PR people again today--they act like having to make a woman a national icon is the worst thing that ever happened to them. They wanted to call me Lady Liberty, can you believe that?” She scoffed, jamming the sheets in with a bit too much force. “They finally caved and let me have ‘Captain America.’ I was holding out for ‘General,’ but you know.” 

“What did you want to talk to me about, love?” 

“Well, it was sort of a unanimous thing that a German name like Niehaus wouldn’t be acceptable for, you know, Captain America. They were throwing around last names like ‘Washington’ or ‘Ross’ or ‘Lincoln,’ but I…” Cosima shut the closet door, careful not to push on it too hard, and turned to face her foster mother. “I wanted to check with you first, but would it be okay if I used ‘Sadler’?”

Mrs. S was quiet, and Cosima had an apology and exit half-planned when the older woman breathed a laugh, her eyes suspiciously wet.

“Cosima love, I’d be honored.” 

“Oh. Okay then,” Cosima said, an embarrassed grin tugging at her lips. “Should we hug? This feels like a hugging moment, but you’re holding a cake--” 

“Oh, just get out of here,” Mrs. S scolded without heat, and Cosima laughed before returning to the kitchen, not noticing the way Mrs. S wiped at her eyes before following.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------

“How many weapons do you see in this room?”

“Um.” Cosima stood in a standard private SSR office, Agent Peggy Carter’s eyes burning into the back of her skull. It was her third day of training with the woman, and Cosima had the distinct impression that, despite the super-serum and miraculous recovery from terminal illness, she had yet to impress the SSR agent. 

“Yes?” 

“This might sound stupid,” Cosima said, starting to walk around the office, “but I’m pretty sure this room is kind of overflowing with weapons.” 

“Explain.” 

“Well, the desk for starters.” She tapped on the hard wood for emphasis. “Slam somebody’s head into that and they aren’t getting up for a while. You could use the chair to trip someone up. The books are heavy, so you could swing those at someone. Pencil to the eye,” Cosima added, picking one up as she spoke and picking up steam. “That would hurt. Or kill, depending on how deep. The letter opener’s self-explanatory. You could trip, bind, or strangle someone with the curtains. And then there’s the window itself.” 

“The window?” 

“We’re on the 12th floor, right? Get them to go out the window, gravity finishes the job.” 

Cosima glanced back at Peggy, expecting to see the same look of mild disinterest she’d been facing since she came out of the Vita-Ray capsule. Instead she saw a small but genuine light in the other woman’s eyes.

“Very good, Doctor. Even experienced agents fail this little test. Although you forgot my personal favorite, the very versatile stapler.” The agent lifted the stapler as she spoke, testing its heft. “Now, use what you can.” 

“What?” 

Peggy swung the stapler at Cosima’s face and Cosima swore and ducked, grabbing the edge of the desk as she stumbled backward. Ending up halfway behind the desk, she grabbed the chair and tried to throw it at Peggy, only to find that the SSR agent had expected this and was approaching from the other side of the desk and that she’d cornered herself between the Agent and the desk’s solid front. Doing the one thing she could think of, she kicked out the desk’s front and rolled out of the new hole, scrambling to grab a weapon.

“Don’t show your back!” Peggy called just as Cosima’s hands finally closed around something solid and heavy. She twisted around and held it in front of her just in time, and the stapler connected with a biography of Abraham Lincoln with a heavy thud.

Slowly, Cosima lowered the book, to be greeted with the first genuine smile she’d seen on the Agent’s face.

“Not bad,” she said as Cosima examined the book’s now staple-ridden cover. “Although…”

“What? C’mon, if you hadn’t stopped, I totally would’ve won.” 

“Well, you didn’t win,” Peggy said, her smile turning into a slight smirk. “And who said I stopped?”

“What--” Cosima’s breath left her in a sudden whoosh as a foot connected with her side. “That is _not_ fair.” 

“The Nazis don’t play fair.” 

“You’re not a Nazi.” 

“I’m here to teach you how to fight them,” the SSR agent retorted. “Captain America.” 

“I really didn’t choose the title,” Cosima said, standing and brushing wood slivers off her dress. “It was either that or ‘Lady Liberty.’”

“Is that Senator Brandt I hear?”

“God, yeah. I was surprised he didn’t just suggest Miss America, he was so simultaneously patriotic and unoriginal. But I’m ‘America’s New Hope,’ so...” 

“Well, as a non-American, I’m not sure how much I can say on the subject--”

“You can say it sucks. That’s fine.”

“Alright, then,” she chuckled, and Cosima grinned.

“Hey,” she added, glancing around the office. The desk was broken, books spilled across the floor and mixed with the wood shards, and on the biography she was holding, a staple dangled from one of Abraham Lincoln’s eyes. “Whose office is this, anyway.” 

“I don’t know.” 

“What?” 

“The fight wasn’t exactly on the schedule.” Agent Carter glanced around the room for a moment before turning sharply on her heel and marching from the room.

“Agent Carter?”

“We were never here.” 

Cosima caught up to Peggy with a few strides, glancing between the room behind them and the woman beside her.

“You’re kind of badass, Peggy.” 

“I served from the first moments of the war, and was recruited into the Strategic Scientific Reserve after only a few years of being a military member.”

“You’re really badass, Peggy.” 

Peggy let out a startled laugh and Cosima laughed with her as they hurried away from the crime scene.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you guys enjoyed all of the Peggy in this chapter--she was so much fun to write. Comments are always welcome and criticism is always encouraged! And as always, you can find me on tumblr at probablytatiana.
> 
> <3


	16. Sixteen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for: Drinking, brief references to medical procedures and illness, discussions of sex, misogyny and assault, and vulgar language

Cosima.” 

“Shh.” 

“Co _si_ ma.” 

“No talking.” 

_“Cosima,”_ Delphine laughed, pushing Cosima gently away. “We are meant to be analyzing your bloodwork to see if we can isolate anything to help recreate the serum.” 

“Yeah, I know, but kissing you is more fun.” 

“You are incorrigible,” Delphine said, giving Cosima a light peck on the nose before turning away. “Now, if we look at your red blood cell count--” 

_“Delphine,”_ Cosima moaned, and Delphine sighed before turning back around.

“Cosima, this is serious. Without Erskine, it could take years to recreate this serum. We don’t have that time. I want to win this war as much as you do.” 

“I know.” Cosima said, dropping her gaze to the ground. “I just--I want to forget it for a while, you know? I just want to pretend for a bit that this isn’t happening.” 

“Cosima.” Delphine waited until Cosima looked back up at her before speaking. “This is your life now. The key to the serum-- _to winning the war_ \--is you.”

“Yeah, well I didn’t ask to be made the key, did I?” 

“How is Felix?” Delphine asked after a tense moment, her fingers tapping against the sheet of test results. Cosima huffed, her own fingers clenching and unclenching in her lap.

“He’s fine,” she said curtly, glancing away from Delphine again. “He still writes. His letters are shorter, simpler, but they’re still coming. He’s alive. Colin’s alive.”

“Colin?” 

“The man he loves.” 

“He’ll be fine, Cosima.” 

“You can’t know that.” Cosima’s hands clenched into fists in her lap. Delphine didn’t say anything, looking at the test results again instead of Cosima. “He could die. Or Colin could die, and that would kill him. They could all die over there--”

“Cosima, I am as invested in this war as you, if not more so--” 

“More so? My brother is fighting over there--” 

“And in a week you will join him, with me there beside you. We are both doing everything we can, for the soldiers, for Felix, but we must make use of what time we have left here. We know this serum better than anyone--we have to make the best of this time.” 

“In a week we’ll be living in the war. Do we have to spend this last week talking about it? Just give me this week,” Cosima added, softer. “Just give me a few hours to not think about it, to not be scared. Give me a few hours with you.”

“A few hours?” Delphine asked, lips quirking up in a sad smile. _“Ma cherie,_ I will never leave you.”

“Good,” Cosima said, blinking rapidly. “Because I don’t think I can do this without you, Delphine.”

Wordlessly, Delphine pulled Cosima closer and let the super-soldier shake in her arms, pretending not to feel Cosima’s tears soaking into her dress.

“I’m scared.” 

“You’re going to war, Cosima. Of course you’re scared.”

“Captain America shouldn’t be scared.” It was ridiculous, Cosima knew, but she could feel all the emotions she’d been tamping down for weeks bubbling up, only made worse by the new knowledge that she was now expected not to feel them at all. “That’s what they want from me now. Not just Cosima Niehaus, the good sister, but Cosima Sadler, Captain America.”

“Cosima,” Delphine murmured, her breath warm against Cosima’s cheek. “That’s all you have to be with me. Cosima.” 

“I’m so scared,” Cosima said, clutching at Delphine. “Isn’t that ridiculous? I volunteered. I’m superpowered. And I’m scared.” 

“Talk to me,” Delphine said, gently stroking Cosima’s arm.

With a shuddering breath, Cosima did.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Really, there’s only so much left for me to teach you. Most of what’s left for you to gain is instincts, and that’s not something that can be taught.”

“Great,” Cosima grunted. “So can I stop doing one armed pushups with you on my back, then?”

“No.” Agent Carter looked like the image of dignity and grace, checking a stopwatch and taking notes while beneath her, Cosima worked on her 67th pushup. “The generals still want tests of your strength and endurance.” 

“Yeah, well they’re sadists. And so are you.” 

“Come on, quit whining. You’ve not even done 80.” 

Cosima’s left arm buckled suddenly and deliberately beneath her, sending her sprawling flat on her face and making Peggy tumble to the ground.

“Really?” the SSR agent asked while Cosima cackled. “After 78 pushups? I could do better, super serum or no.” 

“Oh yeah?” Cosima asked, pushing herself back up into a sitting position. “Wanna bet?” 

“Oh I do, Captain,” Peggy said, a competitive gleam lighting her eyes. Cosima grinned, maybe a bit toothier than usual. and got back into pushup position.

“Peggy?” 

The voice came from the doorway, masculine but soft, almost bashful, and Peggy reacted instantly, half-jumping to her feet and crossing over to the speaker as fast as she could without running.

Cosima watched them speak, curious. They made an odd pair--the man was at least half a foot shorter than Peggy, and almost painfully scrawny, especially when stood next to Peggy Carter, the muscular and tall epitome of the female soldier. But the way they stood next to each other, always glancing at each other, both of them with their hands behind their backs even as they leaned toward each other as if they were just barely holding back from touching, and the way he smiled when Peggy laughed at something he’d said--as strange as they looked, it also looked like they belonged.

The way the man stood on his tiptoes to press a kiss to Peggy’s cheek before quickly ducking his head and scurrying away down the hall only confirmed what she’d already guessed.

“So…” Cosima said, raising an eyebrow when Peggy returned. The other woman’s eyes had lit up at a challenge, but after speaking to the man in the doorway, Peggy’s eyes seemed to glow with a warmth Cosima wouldn’t have thought the agent had in her. “Who was that?”

“Wipe that lewd expression off your face,” Peggy said, rolling her eyes. “And to answer your question, that was Steve Rogers.” 

“Steve Rogers?” Cosima frowned; she’d heard that name somewhere. 

_Steve Rogers,_ Delphine had said, _he is...so ill._

“Oh my God. _Steve Rogers.”_

“Yes. The Steve Rogers who was meant to be given the serum.” 

“Oh my God,” Cosima said again, looking out toward the hallway Steve had disappeared down. “I should go…” 

“And what? Apologize?” Peggy’s voice gained a hard, sarcastic edge. “Steve doesn’t want that. He doesn’t need to bear your guilt on top of already dealing with having the one chance he had to be a soldier snatched out from underneath his nose. Besides, he knows it wasn’t really your final decision. And he wouldn’t have wanted you to die.” 

“He doesn’t even know me,” Cosima pointed out. “And I got what he was promised.” 

“Still,” Peggy shrugged, fondness creeping back into her voice. “That’s Steve.” 

“You’re really smitten, huh?” 

A spot of pink appeared high on Peggy’s cheeks. “Oh, shut up.” 

“I can see why. Sort of, he’s really not my type. But he seems like a good guy.” 

“He is,” Peggy agreed. “A very good man.” 

The two of them sat in the gym quietly for a few moments, the subtly lovestruck look on Peggy’s face making Cosima think of a blonde--though not the one Peggy was thinking of. 

“Right,” Cosima said finally, hopping into a standing position. “If we’re gonna talk about sappy shit, I’m not doing this sober.” 

“Doctor Erskine believed one of the side effects of the serum would be that alcohol wouldn’t affect--” 

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” Cosima said, waving her off. “I was also a researcher on that, remember? Protective matrix around the cell, fast metabolism, blah blah blah. It’s the principle of the thing. It’s five o'clock, right?” 

“Well, 5:10--” 

“Even better. C’mon. Unless you’ve gotta meet Steve somewhere.” 

“No, he was just saying that he’d be home late tonight.” 

“C’mon, then. One night out won’t kill you.” 

“Fine,” Peggy relented. “But as I’m the only one who will be getting drunk, you’re going to be the one paying.”

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Right, that’s enough to cover the next couple of rounds,” Cosima said with a bright grin, slamming a wad of cash down on the countertop before sitting at her barstool and taking a sip of her red wine.

“You really ought to stop challenging random men to drinking contests,” Peggy said, nursing a glass of whiskey. “Someone is going to catch on.” 

“They’re all too sauced to notice,” Cosima said. “Or if they do, nobody’ll believe them. You on the other hand, Peggy Carter, are far too sober for someone whose cells don’t metabolize alcohol at a higher rate.” 

“I prefer to keep my facilities intact,” Peggy replied, though she took another drink all the same. “Besides, a man stumbles drunk out of a bar, it’s just another night, but God forbid a woman do the same. Double standards practically ooze from the walls.” 

“Amen.” Cosima and Peggy raised their glasses in unison, clinking them together and then each downing whatever remained in them. Without waiting for Peggy to say anything, Cosima ordered another round. 

“You would not _believe_ what I put up with trying to rise through the ranks,” Peggy said, taking a long drink of whiskey as soon as the glass was placed in front of her. “And Americans are even worse. They are _soldiers,_ they’re meant to be _disciplined,_ not making lewd comments at the slightest provocation.” 

“God, I don’t think I could spend more than ten minutes in a room of soldiers without punching one in the face.” 

“I _did_ punch one in the face.” Both Peggy and Cosima looked at each other for a moment before bursting into giggles, hunched over their respective drinks.

“I wish I could’ve seen that.” 

“It felt _so good,”_ Peggy admitted, still snorting, which sent Cosima into another wave of laughter.

“I’m Captain America now, d’you think I can get away with punching chauvinist asses?” 

“I rather think you’d break your hand before you were through, super serum or not.” 

“Isn’t that the truth,” Cosima muttered, taking another drink and savoring the taste of the wine, even if it wouldn’t give her the pleasant buzz she’d always enjoyed. 

“Do you get mistaken for a coffee girl?” 

_“All the time,”_ Cosima groaned, exasperated. “Or asked to take lunch orders by people who just run into me in the hallway.” 

“I bloody hate lunch orders. I work with high-ranking military officials and international agents, surely one of them can get his own sandwich.” 

“Amen,” Cosima said, and they emptied their glasses again. “I’m a super soldier and a goddamn fantastic scientist, but they look at me and just see ‘little girl overstepping her bounds.’”

“They see what they want to see,” Peggy said, shaking her head. “A damsel in distress. A girl playing hard to get. A piece of meat,” she added bitterly, and Cosima nodded, her grip tightening on the wine glass and cracks spreading through the fragile glassware. 

“Like they’re fuckin’ entitled to your body.” 

“Like their leers are an honor. Like the very action of touching us is a _gift.”_ Peggy grabbed a fresh whiskey and took a drink, closing her eyes and seeming to savor the burn. “I’m impressed with you, by the way, Niehaus--or Sadler now, right?” 

“What? Why?” Cosima nudged the cracked wine glass back toward the bartender, thrown by the non sequitur. 

“For getting such a high ranking job with Howard without ever sleeping with the man. And looking past the fact that Miss Cormier did.” 

Cosima went very still, her fresh glass of wine sitting untouched in front of her. “What?” 

“Howard makes me fly out with him to Nazi France, saying there’s something absolutely essential there, and then he comes back with this blonde honey who apparently works for him now. No matter what he says, I’m not convinced that she’s not just called ‘doctor’ so her position next to him isn’t called into question.” Peggy paused, squinting at Cosima’s face. “You knew all of this, didn’t you?” 

“No,” Cosima said, shoving against the countertop hard enough to make the wood splinter. She stood and left the barstool fallen on the floor, ignoring the stares she was getting. “I didn’t.”

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Delphine walked toward the door of her house, the chauffeured car Howard provided pulling away from the curb as she rooted in her purse for her keys. Her mind moving slowly--she’d been working until the early hours trying to figure out the secrets of Erskine’s serum the night before, and Howard had forced her to leave early after she yawned one too many times--she made it to the steps leading up to the mansion door before she registered the figure there.

The figure standing in front of her door, arms crossed and glaring daggers.

“Cosima?” 

“Howard’s mansions sure are nice, aren’t they?” 

“I...I don’t...” Delphine fumbled for words, the keys forgotten in her hand. “What are you doing here?” 

“Looking for you.” Cosima looked away as soon as Delphine looked directly at her, tapping the side of the ornate doorway again. “What else did Howard give you? What do you give him?” 

“What are you--” Delphine’s face fell for a fraction of a second before it went blank, like a mask sliding into place. She didn’t quite manage to hide the sad resignation in her eyes. “You’ve been talking to Miss Carter.” 

“Agent Carter,” Cosima corrected. “And yeah, she told me some things. About you and Stark.” 

“It’s not like whatever you’re imagining it is.” 

“Yeah?” Cosima barked a humorless laugh. “Did you fuck him?” 

“It’s late, Cosima, please--” 

“Did you fuck him?” 

“Yes.” 

“More than once?” 

“Yes.” 

“Oh my god.” Cosima shook her head, staring at a point past Delphine. “I can’t believe this.” 

“It isn’t what you’re thinking.” 

“What am I supposed to be thinking? You slept with Stark to get a job with him.” 

“Howard is a friend--” 

“Who you _just happen_ to sleep with. Is that what I am to you? Have you been sleeping with him while you and I--” 

“I _haven’t!”_ Delphine’s mask broke enough for her to shout, her fingers not holding her keys tapping a staccato rhythm against her thigh. “Cosima, please, it isn’t what you’re thinking.” 

“Then explain it to me.” Cosima’s voice turned choked, and her eyes filled with tears. “Just talk to me. I don’t know anything about you. You don’t say. I’ve told you everything, Delphine, and you just don’t say anything. Just talk to me.” 

“I can’t, Cosima, please.” 

“Why not?” Cosima asked softly. “Do you not trust me?” 

“It isn’t about trust,” Delphine said, eyes pleading. “Please understand.” 

“I can’t, Delphine. Unless you talk to me, I can’t.” 

_“Please,”_ Delphine whispered, the keys in her hand beginning to jangle as her hand trembled. All of Cosima’s feelings of hurt and betrayal vanished as she saw Delphine standing there, looking so terrified and lost, and she jumped down the stairs, wrapping Delphine’s shaking hand in two of her own.

“Babe, babe, shit, I’m sorry,” she said, leading Delphine toward the house. “I didn’t mean--I’m sorry, let’s just get you inside, yeah?” 

“You didn’t do anything--” 

“I sure as hell did something wrong if you’re acting like this,” Cosima said, taking the keys from Delphine and trying a couple before landing on the correct one and unlocking the door. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have pushed so hard.” Delphine crossed in front of her to slip into the house and Cosima hesitated on the doorstep, keys extended like an olive branch. “I can come back--” 

“Stay?” 

“Do you want me to?” Cosima asked bluntly, surprised. “I wouldn’t want to be anywhere near me after something like that.” 

“I want you to stay,” Delphine said, and while there was what looked like decades of exhaustion and pain in Delphine’s eyes, there wasn’t anything Cosima could see to suggest she was lying.

“Okay,” Cosima said, stepping inside and closing the door behind her. “I’ll stay.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope everyone who celebrates it had a happy and safe Halloween!
> 
> Lil bit of a longer author's note this time, but I just realized that a couple of weeks ago the six-month anniversary of me starting this fic. Amazing where random shower thoughts can lead you. I need to insert an extra little shout out to Noelle (lesbianchristmasangel on tumblr), who was there from the start and is somehow still here and who I love to pieces. And of course to Chaya (therenegadegabbai) whose help was and is absolutely invaluable. These two people deserve ALL the love. And of course so do you <3\. 
> 
> Thank you all so much for reading+kudos+commenting and all you do. Love you <3


	17. Seventeen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for:Nazis, death of family members, antisemitism, discussions of war and death, and brief medical procedures.

“Yeah, I’m just staying at Delphine’s--Felix, shut up, it is _not_ like that, she had a rough day--yeah, I’ll come home tomorrow. Night.” 

Cosima hung up Delphine’s phone and walked back into the kitchen where Delphine stood, pouring steaming water into a pot.

“You prefer tea, yes?” 

“Yeah,” Cosima said automatically. “But that doesn’t mean you have to make it--I’m fine with whatever you’re having--”

“Do not treat me like I’m made of glass, Cosima,” Delphine chastised gently, dropping a teabag into each mug. “I should not drink coffee so late, anyway.” 

“If you’re sure,” Cosima said, sliding into a seat at the kitchen table as Delphine carried the mugs over. “But you’re sure you’re okay?” 

“Yes,” Delphine sighed, swirling her teabag in the hot water. “But I think I owe you an explanation.”

“You don’t--” 

“We both know that I do.” 

Cosima looked down at her own mug, the feelings of betrayal rising in her again now that she wasn’t consumed with worry for Delphine. “You said you couldn’t talk about it.” 

“I’m not sure I can,” Delphine said, blowing on her tea and taking a sip. “I don’t want to. But I want you to know.” 

“But why did Peggy know?” The question is out before Cosima really thought about it, her fingers wrapped tightly around the hot mug. “Why did you tell her?” _And why didn’t you tell me?_

“I didn’t.” Delphine shook her head slightly, lip curling slightly. “I did not want her to know any of this, believe me.” 

“She said she helped fly you out of France?” 

“It was Howard’s idea, not mine. I just needed to get out of France.” 

“Is that why you slept with him?” 

“Yes.” Delphine’s tone is emotionless, almost clinical, even when a note of bitterness returns to Cosima’s voice. “As a thank-you, I suppose.”

_“Why? _Why would you--why were you so desperate to leave France that you would _sell yourself?”_ Cosima practically spat the euphemism, letting go of the mug before she cracks it and holding her hands in her lap instead.__

__“Because I’m Jewish.”_ _

__“You’re what?”_ _

__“Jewish, Cosima,” Delphine said, looking at the table instead of her lover. There was something wary in her eyes, like an animal waiting for a blow. Cosima just stared. “I lost everything.”_ _

__“You don’t…” Cosima swallowed, suddenly feeling like she was in far over her head. “You don’t mean money.”_ _

__“Well, that too,” Delphine said bitterly, shaking her head. “I...” She trailed off, taking a deep breath. part of Cosima wanted to tell Delphine to forget it, that she’d been stupid to bring it up and to come here to confront Delphine--she was definitely feeling stupid._ _

__But she knew that she’d never be able to trust Delphine if she didn’t know. And she _wanted_ to know._ _

__“My name is Esther,” Delphine said finally, still looking anywhere but Cosima. “Delphine Esther Cormier. Esther at home, and Delphine everywhere else.”_ _

__“Why?” Cosima couldn’t help blurting._ _

__“Because it was safer.” Delphine sounded like she was reciting from a book, but her eyes were distant, like she was seeing something very different than the table’s wood grain. “It was the same for all of us. No Yiddish outdoors, no telling the butcher why we don’t buy his ham, Papa introduced himself to patients as Leon, not Aryeh Lev, and Yitzhak became Issac.”_ _

__“Yit--” Cosima’s mouth fell open in a small, heartbroken o. “A brother.”_ _

__For a heartbeat, Cosima saw a wordless agony in Delphine’s eyes, something that almost made Cosima lean away, even seeing it too much to bear. She blinked, and it was gone, Delphine pulling her hands off the table and retreating into herself._ _

__“I was raised in Lille,” Delphine said, “And stayed with my family until the siege of Lille. They--they were killed. One of the--I don’t know what you call them, from the tanks? Hit the house.”_ _

__“Oh my God, Delphine,” Cosima whispered, automatically reaching across the table for Delphine’s hand. After a moment, Delphine took it. “I’m so sorry.”_ _

__Delphine shook her head, her voice trembling as she continued. “I fled. Papa, he--he had an associate, Aldous Leekie. He hid me, kept me safe and in exchange…” She gestured to her body wordlessly._ _

__“Oh, God.” Cosima felt nauseous. “God, I’m going to kill that man myself.”_ _

__“I believe the Nazis got to him,” Delphine said, taking a shuddering breath. “The Nazis got to everyone. My cousins in Poland stopped writing at the beginning of the war. I had a few friends in Paris and they were dragged away. They were French officers.” The words tumbled out of Delphine’s mouth like she wasn’t totally aware she was saying them. “Not Nazis--not even Germans. French officers.”_ _

__“Delphine, I--”_ _

__“So I called Howard,” she said quickly. “An old associate--we’d worked together before. He brought Agent Carter, and extracted me from France. We had a mutually beneficial relationship, unlike with Aldous, when I was...paying a debt. It ended. And that is it, Cosima.” Delphine’s eyes had a desperate light in them again, like she was halfway to begging Cosima to believe her again, and Cosima just felt sick. She wasn’t sure if she was more disgusted with the world or herself. “That is everything Howard knows, the-the correct version of...whatever Agent Carter told you. The truth, Cosima.”_ _

__“Delphine, I...I’m sorry.” It was the most inadequate thing, but all Cosima could say. “I’m sorry that I--it was so stupid of me to come in here like that and confront you, and I’m sorry that happened, I’m so sorry, I don’t…”_ _

__“Please,” Delphine whispered hoarsely, “Don’t. I can’t--” She stood suddenly, the chair’s feet scraping roughly against the floor. “I am going to have a smoking.”_ _

__Cosima nodded, and was halfway to following when Delphine shut the door behind her, leaving her alone._ _

__With nothing else to do, Cosima took the barely-touched mugs and crossed to the kitchen to rinse them out. It was something they joked about and all the siblings shared--when in crisis, clean. Alison had kept the house sparkling in the weeks before her wedding thanks to nerves. Even Sarah would straighten out messes she’d made, though usually with yelling and ordering Felix around._ _

__Delphine’s house was neat, nearly clinical, the only real personal touch a pair of silver candlesticks on the kitchen table. The chaos was all in Cosima’s mind._ _

__Still, she scrubbed the mugs until her hands turned pink, staring at them for any spots as if they would tell her what to do._ _

__Outside, Delphine took a long, slow pull on her cigarette and held it, feeling her chest swell with hot air, the smoke trying to fight its way up her throat. Her eyes fluttered shut, and the images surged forward, as if they’d been waiting. They were always waiting._ _

___Naomi shouting, her arms around her swollen belly and the French officer pulling her along, the rain of gunfire and breaking glass, Aldous’s fingers on her shoulders, his lips on the back of her neck-- “She’s a pretty thing, Stark, and serviced me well, I’m sad to see her go.”--a white bathtub and red water, Yitzhak grinning brightly and calling in Yiddish, “Esther, Esther, forget your dull science, come and see my painting, Esther sing with me, you know you want to and our voices go together so well, Esther--”_ _ _

___Her own voice, cracked and terrified, blisters on her arms and soot on her dress as she called for Yitzhak, please Yitzhak, open your eyes, you have to, you have to, you can’t do this, open your eyes, please, you can’t go, Yitzhak, Yitzhak, YITZHAK--_ _ _

__She exhaled, long and slow, opening her eyes just in time to see the smoke form meaningless spirals in the air before disappearing altogether. She slumped against the wall and slid down it, ignoring the mud at the wall’s base and how unladylike she must’ve looked. The cigarette burned between her fingers._ _

__She lifted it to her lips and inhaled._ _

____

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Delphine was watching her third cigarette slowly burn itself out when Cosima slipped outside, her steps slow and measured.

“Hey. Are you okay?” She shook her head before Delphine could respond. “That’s a stupid question. Sorry. Do you want me to go?”

“No,” Delphine said, stubbing out her cigarette against the ground, and a smile, tiny and relieved, passed over Cosima’s face before it was replaced again by worry. She sat down next to Delphine, almost but not quite touching the blonde.

“Delphine, I--”

“Don’t. Cosima, please, I cannot--” Delphine shook her head, looking utterly exhausted. “Not now.”

“Okay. I understand. Whatever you need.” Cosima chewed her lip, guilt still gnawing away at her. With uncharacteristic hesitation, she put her hand on Delphine’s. “I just--we’re going to war next week. I wanted--I needed to know I could trust you.”

“You can.” Delphine clutched Cosima’s hand, and Cosima found herself holding on just as tightly, both of them leaning in toward each other. “You always can.”

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------

“This doesn’t feel like a war.”

Cosima shifted uncomfortably in her red, white, and blue uniform, tugging at the strangely-tight leggings she had on. She’d managed to negotiate the heels off her boots, but they were still knee-high and bright red.

“We are in the European theatre, _ma cherie.”_

“We must be at least fifteen miles behind the front lines,” Cosima countered, flopping down on the camp bed she’d been sitting on the edge of. Delphine sighed, sitting on the cot across from Cosima. The sunlight filtering through the walls of the canvas tent they were both in gave the entire scene a dull yellow light.

“It’s better at least than performing on stage at home, yes?” 

“Hardly. There are reporters and photographers all over the place. _Captain America, can you give us a quote, Captain America, come shake this man’s hand so we can have a picture, don’t you miss home Captain America, don’t you miss the kitchen?_ They’re worse than buzzards. You’re getting more action than I am.” 

“I’m patching up injured soldiers, Cosima.” 

“I’m sorry.” Cosima sat up, facing Delphine again. “It’s stupid to be complaining about being safe, I know. But I came over here to do _something,_ and I’m not doing _anything._ It’s like this war’s nothing but a glorified publicity stunt.” 

“I know you’re frustrated, _ma cherie,”_ Delphine said, easily crossing the few feet of space between her bed and Cosima’s, perching next to the brunette. “But I can’t complain, since they’re keeping you safe. And,” she added, leaning in so their foreheads were brushing. “I cannot complain about the uniform, either.” 

“Mm,” Cosima murmured, tilting her head so she could look up into Delphine’s eyes. “I guess I can see the advantage of the stars and stripes.”

“Miss Sadler?” 

Cosima groaned, turning away from Delphine to face the tent flap. _“What?”_

“Er...sorry,” said an awkward-looking private who clearly wanted to be anywhere but where he was. “But there’s an artist here to see you?”

“Of course there is.” Cosima got up from the hard bed, one hand trailing down Delphine’s arm. “I’ll see you later, babe?” 

“You don’t need to worry about me,” Delphine chastised gently, “I’ll just go see if anyone in the medical tent needs help.” 

“Okay.” Cosima moved in for a kiss, only to be stopped by Delphine’s meaningful glance toward the private still standing in the corner of the tent. Cosima sighed in frustration before following the soldier out of the tent. “Who’s this artist, anyway?”

“He’s the head of the wartime arts committee.” 

“I didn’t know there was one.” 

“There is now,” the soldier said with a shrug. “Special order of the SSR--well, one agent of the SSR, but she got Stark to back her.”

“Her?” Cosima asked, looking out across the camp, expecting to see, of all things, Agent Carter with a paintbrush, but it was another figure that she recognized.

He was sitting with his back to her, but stood out, both because of his bright blonde hair and the fact that he must’ve weighed at least 100 pounds less than anyone else in the camp. Cosima immediately strode over to him, leaving the soldier behind.

“Steve Rogers?”

He turned around, quickly closing his sketchbook and putting a polite smile on his face. He didn’t quite manage to hide the awe at Cosima’s physique, nor the swell of jealousy in his eyes, but Cosima couldn’t blame him.

She couldn’t stop the guilt settling heavily in her stomach, either, as he stood and shook her hand. He was shorter than her, and she felt like she might crush his tiny hand in hers, the bones practically poking through his pale skin.

“You must be Captain Sadler. It’s nice to meet you, ma’am.” 

“Yeah, you too--and it’s just Cosima.” She smiled awkwardly at him, and he smiled back, gesturing for her to sit on the bench next to him. “So what brings you to the western front?”

“You, actually.” Steve reopened his sketchbook, and Cosima caught a glimpse of a few beautiful charcoal sketches of Agent Carter, and a couple of a dark-haired soldier before he turned to a blank page. “They’ve asked me to do a few portraits of you.”

“Ah, jeeze,” Cosima flushed a bit, glancing away from him. “You’re kidding.” 

“No ma’am,” Steve said with a bit of a smirk. “They’ve commissioned three so far.” 

“Jeeze,” Cosima moaned, taking off her useless glasses and rubbing at her forehead. “I wouldn’t’ve taken the serum if I’d known I was going to turn into this public figure--I mean,” she added quickly, remembering who she was talking to. “I didn’t--shit, I’m sorry.” 

“It’s fine,” Steve said, and Cosima was somewhat surprised to find it sounded genuine. “I heard the story from Peggy--uh, Agent Carter. It saved your life. I’m glad you got it.” 

Cosima rubbed the back of her neck, looking away from him again. “You’re a better man than I am, Steve Rogers.” 

“Well, ah, seeing as you’re not a man, I’d hope so.” 

Cosima laughed, and after a few moments Steve did as well, grinning as he picked up a charcoal stick and beginning to sketch.

“You’re not going to ask me to pose or anything?” 

“No,” he said, “Those always look so phoney.” 

“I like you already, Steve.” 

They both fell silent, Steve sketching away and Cosima trying to figure out what exactly she should do while someone sketched a picture of her. She settled for watching the comings and goings around her, which suddenly became more exciting when an ambulance from the front rolled in. The camp sprung to life, doctors and nurses running forward to carry stretchers or support those well enough to walk. Delphine came rushing out of one of the tents, blonde curls already tied out of the way as she bent over one of the stretchers, standing and shouting orders a moment later.

“That’s Doctor Cormier, isn’t it?” 

“Hm?” Cosima turned back to Steve, who was looking over at the blonde doctor. “Delphine? Yeah, that’s her.” 

Steve had stopped sketching, watching as Delphine directed several nurses over to one of the medical tents before grabbing an extra wad of gauze and pressing it into a soldier’s side. The man made a strangled groan of pain that Cosima and Steve could hear across the camp, but Delphine didn’t seem to notice.

“Peggy mentioned you two,” Steve said suddenly. “Said you two are...intimate.” 

Cosima tensed as she turned to face him again. She liked Steve, from what she knew of the man; Erskine had certainly thought highly of him, and Erskine had been one of the best judges of character. But if he had an issue with queers…

“I don’t get it.” 

“I don’t really see what’s hard to get,” Cosima replied, low and biting, and was pleased to see a small flush start on Steve’s cheeks.

“No, not--not your relationship, exactly,” he said quickly, “Not the part where you’re both dames. Women. Ladies. That’s fine--I have plenty of friends like you two. But I don’t understand why it’s you two, exactly.”

“You don’t think I’m right for Delphine?”

“I don’t think she’s right for you. Ma’am,” he added, fiddling with the charcoal stick. “If you’ll forgive me saying so.”

“None of that ma’am stuff,” Cosima said, almost absentmindedly. “It’s Cosima. And I appreciate you looking out for me, Steve. But you don’t know me, or her,” she said, not ungently. “You got her story from Peggy, who got off on the wrong foot with Delphine. You all see her through that story--I see her through different eyes.” 

Steve was still passing the charcoal stick from hand to hand, his sketchbook open in his lap. “How do you see her, then?” 

“I guess…” Cosima shrugged, not looking directly at anything. “On some level I see what you all see--someone tall, blonde, French. With some really great hair.” She laughed a little to herself, tucking a bit of her own hair behind her ear. “But I also see a survivor, someone ambitious and strong, kind of scary sometimes, but a lover. Someone who would do anything for love, someone who saved me, even when risking her own life. Do you know, she…” 

Cosima kept talking, a faint smile on her face, and didn’t notice Steve beginning to sketch.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Delphine stripped off her bloodied apron and dumped it into a bucket with dirty bandages as she stepped out of the medical tent, her hair sticking to the sweat on her forehead.

“You look tired.”

“Cosima,” Delphine sighed, quickly holding both her hands up as a barrier when Cosima moved in for a kiss. “I smell terrible.”

“Yeah,” Cosima agreed, smirking when Delphine gave her an offended look. “But it’s a sexy terrible. An I-just-saved-lives kind of terrible. An I’m-the-best-doctor-on-the-western-front terrible.”

“You are still not coming near me until I’ve showered,” Delphine countered, and Cosima pouted but backed away anyway. Delphine pulled off the white cap and gauze mask she’d left hanging around her neck, rubbing the back of her neck.

“I heard you saved six soldiers today,” Cosima said softly. “And helped more.”

“They all seemed so shocked every time it happened,” Delphine said, crossing over to a nearby bench and sitting down heavily. Cosima followed, gently rubbing the back of Delphine’s neck. “As if I didn’t start treating people when I was thirteen.” 

“You did?” Cosima asked, pulling back to look at Delphine. “Seriously?” 

“There was an accident outside the house. Papa needed another pair of hands.” Delphine spoke casually, as if talking about a picnic she’d gone on as a child.

“Did they….did they all make it?” 

“Yes. I don’t think the little girl could walk anymore, but yes.” Delphine faced Cosima, her voice serious but unaccusing. “You want to ask me something, _ma cherie.”_

“Yeah, I…” Cosima hesitated. “I want you to go help Felix.”

“Cosima…” 

“Please, listen,” Cosima said, shifting so she could take Delphine’s hand. “I’m not in danger here--this is just a photo shoot, they just stuck me here to keep me quiet. Felix is in actual combat. He could actually get hurt. Please, I need to know that he’s got someone looking out for him. Someone _good.”_

“Cosima,” Delphine said, shaking her head. “I saved six men today, but I lost three. So many of them are missing limbs, or their minds are gone. Not all of them are going to make it home. I can’t leave you here.” 

“I’m not in danger,” Cosima repeated, scoffing. “Half the reason I did all this was to end the war sooner, to keep him safe, and I’m doing _nothing._ I can at least make sure he’s got the best help there is.”

“You’re asking me to leave you in a war zone,” Delphine said slowly.

“This was never about me,” Cosima said, squeezing Delphine’s hand until the blonde looked back at her. “This was always about my family. About all of us. I need you to protect all of us.”

Delphine closed her eyes and turned her head away, and for an instant she looked incredibly tired, and so much older--and at the same time younger, and vulnerable. She carried herself so well all the time, Cosima was always surprised when she remembered that Delphine was nearly a year younger than herself. She almost wanted to take the request back, to pretend she’d never made it.

But she didn’t. She couldn’t and wouldn’t, not when her brother--and by extension the rest of her ragtag family--was on the line.

“He’s my _little brother._ You get that, don’t you? You of all people...”

In the next moment, Delphine’s face cleared and she looked Cosima in the eye, nothing but sincerity and drive in her expression.

“I will go,” she said. “And I will do my best to protect all of you.”

There was an extra thread of emotion in Delphine’s voice, something Cosima couldn’t put into words but she felt, something like a vow but bigger, like a confession but stronger.

Unsure of how to respond to something like that, Cosima smiled at Delphine, hoping at least some of her feelings came across, and laid her head on the blonde’s shoulder.

And promptly wrinkled her nose.

“Shit, you’re rancid.” 

“I warned you,” Delphine said with a startled giggle as Cosima pulled back, holding her nose. “I have been operating for hours in this heat, what did you expect?” 

“Oh god, super-smelling. I can’t get away from it,” Cosima moaned, flinging herself off the bench and rolling onto her back. “This is the end. This is how Captain America dies.”

“Co _si_ ma,” Delphine scolded, though the sternness of her tone was undermined by the fact that she was still giggling. Cosima thrust one arm dramatically into the air, as she’d seen some cheesy dying heroine do in a flick Felix had dragged her along to.

“Tell...Delphine...I…” With a noise somewhere between a gag and a choke, Cosima let her arm fall to the grass, eyes closed and tongue lolling out. 

Delphine just laughed.

“Seriously?” Cosima propped herself up on her elbows. “I could be dead here, and you’re just gonna sit there and laugh? Are you even going to try and revive me?” 

“Ah, so this is an excuse for mouth-to-mouth?”

“Would it work?” Cosima asked, grinning lecherously. “Doctor Cormier?” 

“You are a _brat.”_

“That wasn’t a no.” Cosima laid back down on the grass, watching a few puffy clouds roll by. “Come lay with me.” 

“I won’t kill you again with my rancid?”

“Nah. I think it’s starting to dissipate.”

“You are such a flirt, _ma cherie,”_ Delphine sighed, but stood, and a few moments later Cosima felt Delphine’s hand warm in hers as the blonde laid down. “Is this what Americans do, then? Lay and watch the clouds?”

“When we’re not charging headfirst into battle, yeah.” Delphine hmm’d in response, her thumb gently rubbing the back of Cosima’s hand. “Sometimes we find shapes in them too.” 

“What unit is your brother with?”

“I’m trying to introduce you to the great American tradition of cloud watching, and you wanna talk about my brother?”

“I’m sorry,” Delphine said, her hand tightening briefly on Cosima’s. “But I will have to know, when I’m speaking to Colonel Phillips.”

“The 107th. They’re in Italy, or on the border, I think? Pretty far from here.” In one of her less-subtle attempts to change the subject, Cosima pointed blindly at the sky. “I think that one looks like a mitochondria.” 

“Mm, I think it looks more like a nucleolus.”

“Picky. That one looks like a golgi apparatus.”

“That looks like a spleen.”

“Hey, Delphine?”

_“Oui?”_

“Mouth-to-mouth...the name’s pretty obvious, but is that actually what you do in France when someone’s unconscious?” 

“Well, for drowning victims usually, but there’s no real reason that it wouldn’t work on anyone who wasn’t breathing.” There was a pause, and then. “Are you saying you don’t do that in the States?”

“We don’t make out with potentially dead people, no.” 

“It is not _making out,”_ Delphine said, the offended tone making Cosima smirk. “It’s putting air into their lungs when they aren’t doing it for themselves! The Paris Academy recommended it in _1740.”_

“Oh, that…” Cosima frowned. “That makes sense, actually.” 

“Americans,” Delphine sighed. “So behind the times.”

“Only like...two hundred years.”

Delphine shook her head, lacing her fingers through Cosima’s. “You are ridiculous. And cheeky.” 

“That’s why you like me.” 

“Yes, I do.”

“I--” Cosima stopped, biting her lip.

“Cosima?” 

“It’s nothing,” Cosima said. “Just...I...will you stay here with me? Just for a little while?”

Delphine’s hand tightened, and even though they both knew on some level that it was a lie, she said, “I will never leave you.”

Then, “Perhaps I should wash first, though.”

“Yeah. No offense, babe, but you probably should.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was incredibly difficult, and I completely and wholeheartedly welcome criticism. As a disclaimer, I am not Jewish, so if there are any errors or offensive parts to this, please let me know so I can fix it. This wouldn't have been possible without therenagadegabbi's help, so a massive thank you to her.
> 
> I hope you all have wonderful days, and I'll see you next week!
> 
> <3


	18. Eighteen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for: War, mentions of torture, imprisonment, and death.

“Cap! Telegram for you!” 

“Thanks,” Cosima said, though she took the yellow envelope with more than a hint of trepidation. On the home front, telegrams were the worst type of message--nine times out of ten, they were from the military, sending their deepest regrets regarding a loved one.

On the war front though, they could mean anything.

Cosima slipped away to a quiet corner of the camp and slowly opened the envelope.

_November 1 1943_

SARAH HAD HER BABY STOP A GIRL BORN 12 AM EXACTLY 6 POUNDS 9 OUNCES BOTH OF THEM HEALTHY STOP HER NAME IS KIRA COSIMA MANNING STOP CONGRATULATIONS AUNTIE

TONY

Cosima read the telegram twice, none of it really sinking in until she started reading the phrase SARAH HAD HER BABY for the third time.

_Sarah had her baby._

_They’re both okay._

“YES!” Cosima jumped up, punching the air triumphantly. “Oh my god, YES! I am an _aunt!_ Hey, Delph--” 

She stopped, shoulders slumping as she looked around and realized that she was alone.

Delphine was still away, indefinitely, the only communication between the two of them the occasional letter. Her letters had been short, and she hadn’t said much, but it was at least a bit of reassurance. Colin was alive, Felix was alive, Delphine was alive. That was something, at least.

The letters had stopped a few weeks ago. She was determined to not think about that.

Still. If she’d thought the weeks on the faux-front were long when Delphine was there, they were nothing compared to what they were like without her.

“Hey, Captain America! There’s some soldiers coming through here before they get shipped off for leave. They want you to say hello and shake hands.”

Cosima bit back a frustrated groan, nodding as cordially as she could in the soldier’s direction. Carefully, she smoothed out the telegram, running her fingers over the words _KIRA COSIMA MANNING_ one last time before refolding the paper and tucking it into the pocket closest to her heart.

“Miss Sadler!” 

The British voice was strangely familiar, and Cosima realized who it was before she’d even turned around.

“It’s Captain Sadler now though, isn’t it?” 

“I didn’t earn the title, though it is growing on me.” Cosima grinned broadly, running over to embrace the woman. “It’s good to see you, Peggy.”

“You too--”

“Oh!” Cosima carefully set Peggy back down, stepping back and reaching into her pocket. “look at this--I’m an aunt now. Officially.”

“That’s…” Peggy looked down at the telegram Cosima had all but forced into her hands, smiling softly as she read it. “That’s wonderful, Cosima, congratulations.”

“Thanks.” Cosima was still beaming as she took the telegram back, looking at it like she still wasn’t sure it was real. “I’m an _aunt._ Kira Cosima--kid’s gonna get beat up in school, I’m sure, with a name like that.”

“I think it’s a good name. Strong.” 

“Hope so.” Cosima tucked the letter away carefully, glancing up at the quickly darkening sky. It was starting to rain.“Why are you here, anyway? In the best possible way, but I didn’t expect--oh, _shit,_ there’s soldiers coming back from the front, I have to go do a meet-and-greet--”

“That’s what I’m here about, actually.” For the first time, Cosima noticed something pinched and drawn in the agent’s expression. “Cosima, the soldiers coming through--they’re the 107th.”

“The 107th? That’s Felix and Colin’s unit. Are they here? Is Delphine--?”

Peggy’s eyes were dark and pitying, and Cosima felt her heart sink to somewhere below her feet. “I’m sorry, I should’ve said it’s--it’s who remains of the 107th. They were attacked by HYDRA on the border. Over half the unit didn’t come back.”

“I don’t…” Cosima stumbled over to an abandoned crate and sat down. Peggy followed, kneeling on the ground in front of her. “Is Felix here? Is Delphine…?” 

“Officially, they and 432 other men have been missing since October.”

_“October?”_

“The full casualty list was only just released.”

_“Missing,”_ Cosima repeated. “In these days, that’s a euphemism for dead.” 

“We believe they’ve been captured and taken to a HYDRA base. Possibly a work camp, or...or a center for medical experimentation. Either way, they’re most likely...”

“Where?”

“What are you going to do if I tell you?”

“I’m going to walk in there with a gun,” Cosima said, standing. “And demand HYDRA let them go.”

“No, you’re not.” 

“Like hell you’re going to stop me,” Cosima snapped, the hand Peggy’d laid on her shoulder feeling like an irritation rather than a comfort.

“Cosima--” 

“They’re in hell right now, they could be undergoing _experimentation,_ they could be--they could be…”

“Cosima--” 

“I have to do something, I have to be there at least, I--” 

_“Captain Sadler!”_ Cosima started at Peggy’s harsh, commanding tone, quieting automatically. “You cannot walk to Austria. It’s a suicide mission.”

“She’d do it for me.” 

“Cosima, I cannot let you do this.” Cosima opened her, a biting remark on her tongue, when Peggy spoke again. “But I can get you a plane.”

“Captain America!” A reporter’s aide, who looked barely sixteen, came running up to the two women. “Captain America, hi, wow, um, they’d--they’d like you to pose with the soldiers with this helmet and shield--”

“Great.” Cosima snatched up the bright blue helmet and multicolored shield without breaking eye contact with Peggy. “Let’s go.”

“Great! It’s this--um, it’s over this way--Captain America, ma’am, it’s this way--it’s--”

Neither woman spared him a backwards glance as they marched out of the camp, leaving a spluttering aide in the dust.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Right, we’re going to fly in as close as we can, and leave you on their doorstep. When you find them, use your communicator to call us in to pick you up. What do you think?”

“I think I felt better about this plan when I didn’t know Stark was the pilot,” Cosima shouted back, and Howard laughed. She wasn’t sure how she felt about Howard, after what Delphine had told her, but beggars couldn’t be choosers. She’d make a deal with the devil to get to Delphine and her brother. 

The plane itself shuddered and Cosima grabbed one of the harness straps, doing her best not to think about how they were flying above enemy territory, thousands of feet in the air and trapped in a small metal can.

“He’s the best civilian pilot we’ve got,” Peggy shouted.

“Yeah maybe, but I’ve worked with him for months, I also know he’s insane!”

“I’m taking that as a compliment!”

A burst of gunfire split the air and shattered the mood, Howard refocusing on the controls as the plane bobbed and swerved. 

“You have to turn back!”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Peggy snapped, clutching at her harness as the plane tilted again. “We’re flying you in as close as we can get!” 

“Then this is your closest!” Cosima unbuckled her harness, checking her parachute. “You have to get out of here as soon as I’m off!”

“Cosima Niehaus, don’t you dare!” 

“You forget you’re talking to a captain!” Cosima grinned, hoped Peggy couldn’t see the nervousness in her eyes, and jumped.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Felix sat hunched against the bars of the dimly lit cell, Colin’s head on his shoulder and fingers laced through his. They weren’t really worried about hiding now--never mind the fact that more men in their regiment were fruity than straight, everyone had bigger things to worry about than a couple of queers.

Like whether they were going to make it out alive.

Distant clangs and shouts echoed through the cell block, and Colin shuddered, leaning away from the sound and into Felix. Felix disentangled their hands so he could wrap his arm around Colin’s shoulders, trying to ignore how much thinner they’d both become since being captured.

The Nazi bastards were trying to work them all to death. And it looked like they were succeeding.

“Chin up, darling,” he said anyway, rubbing Colin’s arm. “They’ve started on the other end of the block today. They aren’t gonna get to us. Besides, better this than those poor sods who got taken to the lab, eh? At least we stand a chance. Right? Colin?”

The other man wasn’t listening to Felix, but instead to the clamor that was drawing nearer and nearer. Felix stopped talking and started listening as well--something sounded different this time. The shouts had stopped, but there was still the rattle of cell doors being opened and spilling out. Orders in German or strongly-accented English were also conspicuously absent. There was one voice, too feminine to be a Nazi officers, that he could barely make out.

“Felix Dawkins, is he with you? I’m looking for my brother, Felix…” 

“Bloody hell…” Felix stood so quickly he nearly fell over, fighting his way through the other soldiers in the cell toward the front. “Who is that? Who’s out there?”

“Some dame in a costume,” said a big man near the front, looking dazed. “Either that or someone’s spiked my drink.” 

Felix elbowed him out of the way and pressed himself into the bar. _“Cosima?”_

She turned around immediately, the high ponytail she’d pulled her hair into whipping a man in the face. “Felix!” 

“What the hell are you doing here?” Cosima didn’t answer, instead bending over the padlock and chain holding the cell door shut. She pulled on it experimentally and then yanked, the heavily-rusted chain snapping in two. “What the _hell?”_

“What, they didn’t teach you that in the army?” 

Other soldiers poured out around them, but Felix and Cosima stayed where they were, staring at each other.

Then Felix surged forward and Cosima met him in the middle, wrapping him in a bone-crushing hug.

“God, Felix, I was so scared--” 

“How are you even here, Cos, how could you--” 

“You don’t get to do that again, okay, never--”

“Are those _muscles?_ When did you get _muscles?”_

“I can’t explain right now.” Cosima stepped back, looking into the cell. “Where’s Colin? Is he okay?”

“Yeah, he’s--he’s in a bad way, but he’s alive.”

“Okay.” Cosima took a deep breath, glancing around. “Get out, get him somewhere safe, okay? All the soldiers well enough are gonna take out as many of these fuckers as they can. I’ve gotta go find Delphine.”

“Delphine--oh, God, Cos.” Cosima had half turned away, but Felix’s tone made her turn back around. “Cos, I’m so sorry--” 

“What?” Cosima pulled her shield closer, as if it could block bad news as well as blows. “Felix, is she…?” 

“They figured out she was a doctor, not just a medic, said she could ‘help’ and took her back to the lab…” His eyes were wet as he finished. “Cos, nobody comes back from the lab. God, Cos, I’m sorry,” he pleaded. “If she hadn’t been trying to protect me--” 

“This isn’t on you, Felix,” Cosima said, stepping back. “This is on me.” 

“Where are you going? You can’t go in there alone!” Felix’s face was raw with guilt and fear, and Cosia half-stumbled away from him, like the distance would make the feelings unreal. “Darling, I don’t think you can save her now."

“I’m Captain America,” Cosima snarled back. “I can do anything.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A shorter chapter this week, and I'm sorry about that. 
> 
> All of my thoughts and love with the victims of terrorism around the world.


	19. Nineteen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for: Fire, discussions of torture, war, death.

The halls past the holding area were like something out of a thriller, dimly lit and foreboding. By the time Cosima had made it to the lab, she was deep enough in the base that the sounds of fighting had faded to a faint rumble, even to her sensitive ears.

The halls were entirely deserted.

“Right,” Cosima muttered, pressed against the wall with her bright shield held against her. “Not creepy at all.”

The sudden noise of a door opening and a man stumbling out was almost deafening by comparison.

The figure--Armin Zola, Cosima realized, recognizing the short stature and round glasses from one of the SSR files she’d snooped through--froze, clearly not expecting to see her there. Equally surprised, and forgetting her super-strength and the gun she was holding, Cosima froze as well.

But the surprise wore off quickly, and in the next instant Zola was halfway down the hall, a few papers fluttering to the ground in his wake.

_Get after him, you idiot!_ shouted a voice in Cosima’s head that sounded an awful lot like Agent Carter’s, and Cosima jerked into motion, only to be stopped short by a weak voice coming from the room Zola had just abandoned, the door still open.

“James Barnes...Sargent...serial number 32557038….James Barnes…”

Without a moment’s hesitation, Cosima raced inside.

“Hello?” The room was worse than the hallways, large and dim, empty save for the medical bed in the center--and the man strapped to it.

“32557038...James Barnes…”

“Hey, Sarge,” Cosima said as gently as she could, her gut twisting as the soldier kept staring blankly ahead, his mumbling unceasing. “C’mon sarge, I’m here to get you out of here. You think you could look at me? Huh, James? _James!”_

He started suddenly, eyes clearing and focusing in relief. She smiled broadly, doing her best to be unthreatening. “Hi.”

“...Hi.”

“It’s James, isn’t it?”

“...Yeah.”

“Okay, James, hold on one second for me.” Cosima ducked to look at the way the straps were attached to the table in an attempt to figure out how to undo them, before deciding better of it and just pulled until they snapped.

“Who _are_ you?”

“Captain America,” Cosima said, maneuvering an arm around the soldier’s back and helping him sit up. “Or just Cosima. Can you stand?”

“Yeah,” he said, but Cosima kept a steadying hand on his arm until she was sure he was stable. “What’s going on?”

“A prison break.” Cosima looked around, but seeing no other chairs in the room, refocused on Barnes. “Listen, James, have you seen any doctors here? Not one of their doctors--one of ours, tall and blonde, captured with the 107th?”

“You mean Cormier,” he said. “Yeah, we all know her. Insisted on coming out in the field with us, fought as well as any man.”

“Someone said she’d been brought back here.” 

Barnes nodded, face grim. “They’d break us, then make her come out and patch us up. I think they’d bring her out from there--” he gestured toward a door on the far end of the room, “But I wasn’t thinking too clearly at the time.”

“No, that’s fine. Thanks,” Cosima said, her attention split between the far door and the soldier next to her. “Do you think you can get out there and give HYDRA hell?”

Barnes sat up straighter, jaw clenched. “I’ll give ‘em worse than that.” 

“Please do.” They nodded to each other, a silent thanks and good luck, then headed in opposite directions--Barnes toward the fighting, and Cosima toward the heart of HYDRA.

The halls had gone from dim and grimy to almost pitch-black, the darkness split by the occasional slant of sunlight that managed to force its way through. The fact that these halls were lined with empty cells didn’t help the mood at all.

Neither did the sound of echoing, approaching footsteps.

Cosima tensed and pressed herself into the wall, one hand twitching on a stolen pistol. The figure was silhouetted and hard to make out, but it appeared to be two people walking steadily forward--toward Cosima.

This time she didn’t hesitate, stepping forward and clicking the safety off in one smooth movement, the way Agent Carter had taught her to.

“Stop, or I shoot.”

The footsteps stopped immediately, and Cosima held her breath, hand tightening and loosening on her shield.

Then--

_“Cosima?”_

_“Delphine?”_ Cosima gasped, her gun lowering immediately. The figure took a step into one of the beams of light, and Cosima’s eyes focused. It was Delphine, a HYDRA goon held in front of her. One of Delphine’s hands had the goon’s arm twisted up behind his back, the other hand holding something black, sharp, and jagged against his throat. There were a lot of questions swirling in her mind, but they were totally swamped by relief. “Delphine.”

Delphine shifted her grip so her arm was wrapped around the man’s neck instead of holding the weapon to his throat, and a few moments later he drooped and Delphine let him fall to the floor. Cosima couldn’t find it in herself to care.

“Cosima,” Delphine whispered again, taking a few hesitant steps forward. Cosima’s gun clattered to the ground, her shield dangling at her side. _“Cosima.”_

Then they were running, the few feet separating them suddenly far too many, and they crashed into each other, Cosima lifting the taller woman off the ground in a desperate tangle of limbs, Delphine’s hands tangled in Cosima’s hair and their foreheads pressed together almost painfully. 

“I thought you were dead, I didn’t think I’d see you again, I thought it was my fault, I didn’t know, I--”

“Cosima,” Delphine breathed, over and over, _“Ma cherie, mon amour, mon coeur,”_ and then they were kissing, messy and rough, noses bumping and teeth hitting but every moment of it screaming _I’m alive, you’re alive, we’re here, we’re alive, I’m never leaving you, I need you I love you I love you._

An explosion rocked the ground beneath them, and they broke apart, Delphine finding her footing on the suddenly less-solid ground, Cosima’s arm still around her waist.

“We have to get out moving,” Delphine said, both of them flinching when another explosion shook the room. “It sounds like they’re destroying the base.” 

“Self-destruct to keep the research secret,” Cosima said grimly. “Just like Erskine.”

“This way,” Delphine said, but Cosima stood still, staring at map on the wall. It was of Europe, with a few areas marked--HYDRA bases? _“Cosima!”_

“I’m coming, I’m coming,” she said quickly, and she and Delphine ran down the hall, leaving the cells and the nightmares they contained behind.

“You’re okay, right? HYDRA didn’t hurt you?”

“No,” Delphine said, panting, and Cosima slowed down so she could catch up. “They wanted information about the Project, but I managed to convince most of them I knew nothing of importance. I do not think Zola believed me, but…” 

“Shit, Delphine, I just...I’m glad you’re alive.” 

“I’m glad you are,” Delphine replied, “Though we are going to talk about you just--just running blind into an enemy base with no backup.”

“I flew in, for your information. And how can I be blind, I’m wearing my glasses!” 

“You don’t even need those!” 

“Well I--hang on,” Cosima said, remembering the black jagged thing Delphine had been using to threaten the HYDRA goon, “Did you turn that spare pair of glasses I gave you into a shiv? And nearly kill a HYDRA guard with them?”

“I--”

Cosima pulled open the door at the end of the hallway as they spoke, and they both stumbled backward, a wave of heat rolling over them.

The hallway was full of fire.

“We have to go up,” Cosima coughed. _“Delphine!”_ she added when the taller woman froze in the doorway, staring wide-eyed at the flames.

“I--I can’t, I--”

“Delphine.” Cosima moved to stand between Delphine and the flames, waiting until the other woman’s eyes flickered from the flames to her. She took Delphine’s hand, entwining their fingers and lifting their linked hands to chest level between them. “I’m here. I’m holding your hand. And I’m _not letting go._ Okay? _Delphine,”_ she added when the blonde’s eyes started to drift back to the fire. “Okay?”

Delphine dragged her gaze from the fire to Cosima, and Cosima could see the moment her gaze hardened and her focus shifted from reliving the past to surviving the present.

“Okay,” she said with a sharp nod, her hand sweaty but steady in Cosima’s. “Let’s go.”

They clambered up the stairs, both flinching as the flames built and burst around them. “We’re almost there,” Cosima shouted, more for Delphine’s benefit than her own, as they came up to the top level. “We just have to--”

She stopped talking as Delphine suddenly pulled, the surprise making Cosima stumble back a few steps as Delphine stepped in front of her.

“Delphine, what--”

“Captain America!”

Cosima stared across the flames at a tall, smirking figure in a HYDRA uniform, Zola clutching his briefcase and huddled behind him.

“Is that…”

“Schmidt,” Delphine breathed, planting her feet as Cosima tried to step in front and shield her.

“I recognized you right away,” Schmidt called, thoroughly unconcerned. “You are in all the advertisements! ‘Fight like a girl,’ no? Or my personal favorite, ‘If she can do it, what’s your excuse?’”

“Remind me to talk to the PR team when we get back,” Cosima muttered, her hand not shifting an inch in Delphine’s as she finally stepped forward, shield raised. 

“Of course Erskine would try again,” Schmidt said, walking almost casually across the metal bridge that connected the platforms they were standing on--and that were the only escape route the two had. “The fact that he managed to make something out of someone like you is a testament to his skill, I suppose. Though why he would lower himself to working on someone like you, I have no idea. _I_ was his greatest success!”

“You’re insane!” Cosima shouted back, both she and Delphine stumbling backward as the bridge began to retract. 

“Look at you, clinging to your shield, your... _loved ones,”_ he said with a sneer, looking at her and Delphine’s hands. “You clutch scraps of humanity because you are afraid! Because you have not accepted the fact that you and I have left humanity far behind!”

He grinned, showing far too many teeth--and then the skin around the edges of his mouth began to split. With one gloved hand, he gripped the skin on his neck and _peeled,_ the flesh coming away and leaving a bare and bright red face behind.

“I am _so_ glad I fixed that,” Delphine whispered.

“Embrace it, Captain! Do as I do, and wear it proudly! Leave your fear behind!” 

“So I guess you’re running away fearlessly, then!” Cosima called, but Schmidt and Zola were already disappearing into an elevator, leaving Cosima and Delphine stranded on the wrong side of a gulf of flame.

“Cosima,” Delphine shouted, pointing upward. Above them, what must’ve been an old steel girder had fallen across the gap. It was thin, and looked unstable even from down where they were, but it was their best shot. “We have to go up.”

Cosima nodded, lowering her shield and following Delphine, climbing up even more old metal stairs until they were at the very top level of the compound, a railing and a long beam standing between them and escape.

“We’ll have to go one at a time,” she shouted, the hot wind coming from below nearly choking her as she spoke. Delphine nodded, her sweat-matted curls waving in the wind. “You first.”

“I’m not leaving before you, Cosima--”

“We don’t have time! I’m superpowered, you need to get out of here! I’m not going until you do,” she added, and Delphine released her hand at last, pulling her hair into a low ponytail before slipping through a gap in the railing.

For all her bravado, Cosima held her breath as Delphine lowered herself onto the beam, spreading her weight as much as she could and hugging the burning metal. “As soon as I am across--”

“I’m right behind you,” Cosima promised, her voice confident even as the shield groaned and buckled in her white-knuckled grip. The bream shifted suddenly, and Delphine let out a half-scream, frightened and pained as her hands, already bright red, clutched the burning metal tighter.

The beam groaned again and Delphine froze, the sound of another explosion making both of them flinch.

They were running out of time.

Delphine let go of the beam.

Cosima could hear nothing but the sound of her own heart, the blood screaming through her ears as Delphine raised herself into a crouch, then, agonizingly slowly, she stood.

_Please,_ Cosima begged a God she’d never been sure existed. _Please._

The beam began to slip and Delphine began to run, leaping just as the beam fell away entirely. The steel fell into the flames with a distant clang, Delphine’s desperate grab for the far railings almost silent in comparison.

She pulled herself over them and onto the landing, and Cosima started breathing again.

“Cosima!” Delphine shouted, searching for another way across. “I’ll--There must be another beam, a rope--”

“You have to go!” Cosima shouted back, “You need to get out!” 

_“No!”_ Delphine’s eyes met Cosima’s at last, hands clutching the railing as if she was ready to tear off a section with her bare hands if that would help. _“I will never leave you!”_

Cosima swore under her breath, stumbling backward and looking around. It wasn’t just her life on the line--if she didn’t at least try, Delphine would--

But there was no rope, no convenient beams or ladders, nothing.

_Use what you have, not what you don’t,_ Agent Carter chastised, but Cosima had nothing.

Just herself.

Swinging the shield onto her back, she grabbed the railing on one side of the gap and pulled it backward, slowly widening the opening. Before she could think too hard about it, she did the same on the other side, and took three deliberate steps backward.

Delphine was still watching her from the other side, and Cosima could see the other woman’s mind whirling in an attempt to solve this problem, and the terror in her eyes.

Cosima tried to smile.

And ran.

And jumped.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------

“...It is with deepest regret that I must declare Cosima Elizabeth Sadler presumably killed in action.”

Colonel Phillips sighed heavily as he half-fell into his chair, letting his secretary put in the cursory closing remarks. In the corner of the tent, Agent Carter stood at attention, her face carefully schooled to show no emotion.

“Do you have any idea how much trouble you are in?”

“Sir,” she replied, staring straight ahead.

“God knows I’d love to draw and quarter Stark for his part in this affair,” Philips continued, “But he’s our leading weapons manufacturer. But you are not. And you have cost us Captain America, in addition to one of Stark’s best scientists, because what? You two had something to prove about girl power?”

“I had nothing to prove, sir,” Peggy replied, her neutral tone beginning to color with some unidentifiable emotion. “Just faith.”

Phillips scoffed, reaching under his desk for a bottle of whiskey. “Faith? In what, that headstrong, reckless captain?”

“In love, sir.” 

“Love? What the--”

A shout was raised in the camp, echoed by more and more soldiers, and everyone in the tent turned to look.

_“They’re back!”_

_“All of them! All 400!”_

_“Get that out of the way!”_

Peggy was out of the tent before she realized it, Phillips just behind her as they ran to the edge of the camp, just as the sentry raised the gate.

Four hundred men came marching out of the woods, dirty and thin, some nursing wounds, a few on stretchers, but _alive._

And in front stood Cosima and Delphine, hands joined so tightly it was near-impossible to tell where one ended and the other began.

They were in an Allied camp, safe ground for the first time in an incredibly long time, with hundreds of rescued soldiers behind them and a destroyed HYDRA base in their wake, but it wasn’t until Cosima and Delphine looked at each other that they both broke into ear-splitting grins.

“These men require medical attention,” Delphine said when she looked away from Cosima at last and noticed Colonel Phillips. “I’ve triaged them--those with most urgent need are over there.”

A group of medics jumped into action, calling to each other as they ran to treat the troops. Cosima, still grinning broadly, turned to Phillips and snapped a salute.

“This is the part where you court-martial me, right?”

Phillips gave Cosima the look he seemed to have reserved for her--one of a man who very, very much wanted many strong drinks.

“That won’t be necessary.”

“You’re late, both of you,” Peggy interjected, stepping forward. She smiled at both of them, and slowly, Delphine smiled back.

“Cosima lost the communicator.”

“In my defense,” Cosima said quickly, “I was dismantling a HYDRA base at the time.”

“Hey!” It was Barnes who shouted, hefting his stolen rifle high. “Let’s hear it for Captain America!”

The cheers that split the air were earth-shattering, soldiers stomping their feet and whooping themselves hoarse. Peggy stepped back into the surrounding ring, clapping warmly.

“Oh jeeze,” Cosima said, a blush climbing up her cheeks. Used to being one of a large noisy house or with a mother who mostly ignored her, being applauded by hundreds of men was nothing she’d ever prepared for. “I, um...I…”

“Three cheers,” Delphine whispered huskily, and Cosima almost snapped her neck looking up at her. Delphine’s grin had faded into a smile both smaller and more intimate, cognac eyes glowing with warmth and something much deeper, much bigger.

Cosima felt her own grin shifting to match, and squeezed Delphine’s hand gently.

The cheers seemed to fade around them as, for each woman, the center of the universe became the other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Four weeks until it's over, guys.
> 
> Happy early Thanksgiving to anyone in the US, and as always, come say hi in the comments or on my tumblr at probablytatiana!


	20. Twenty

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Discussions of war, torture, and violence, and implied sex

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Cosima murmured, her breath tickling Delphine’s face as they both lay facing each other, crammed into a single camp bed. Delphine nodded, not quite meeting Cosima’s eyes.

“Peggy said that the unit was captured in October,” Cosima pressed, unconvinced. “You were there for almost a month, it...it must’ve been hell.”

“It was worse for the soldiers,” Delphine breathed, and Cosima shuddered despite herself, remembering the empty look in Colin’s eyes when she’d found him and Felix after escaping the burning HYDRA building. She’d sat with Felix for hours once they’d made it back to the camp, and how gaunt and exhausted her brother was would be burned in her mind forever.

Despite that, the look of joy on his face when she’d told him he was an uncle had been incredible. They’d both laughed and cried themselves to exhaustion.

“That doesn’t mean it wasn’t bad for you,” Cosima said, one hand ghosting up and down Delphine’s arm. “You’ll tell me if anything’s wrong, yeah?”

“Of course,” Delphine said, almost too quickly. “Are you all right?”

“Me?” Cosima blinked. “Why wouldn’t I be okay? I’ve been sitting in this camp, prancing about in costume, while you and Felix were--”

“But today was your first day in combat,” Delphine interrupted. “That can be difficult.” 

“I…” Cosima’s hand stilled as she thought. “I don’t think it’s sunk in yet. I got you out, and Felix, and that’s...I think that’s all I can think about right now.”

“You did what you had to do,” Delphine echoed, and Cosima moved her head so their foreheads rested against each other. “All those men, and all their families, are grateful beyond words.”

“And you?”

“Surely I don’t need to tell you,” Delphine said, a hint of amusement creeping back into her eyes, and Cosima grinned sheepishly.

“Maybe you could just show me?”

“Perhaps some other night, when we are not both falling asleep already,” Delphine chuckled, but she kissed Cosima anyway, smoke and sweat still lingering on her lips. _“Merci,_ Cosima.”

“Mershi,” Cosima said, and she felt Delphine’s giggles vibrate through her. “Still gotta work on my pronunciation, huh?”

_“Un peu.”_

“Hey, Delphine?”

_“Oui?”_

“In all the chaos, with the me almost dying and then the war and all that,” Cosima said, insecurity leaking into her voice. “I never actually checked, are you--you are okay with this, right? With us?”

“You are asking me this now?”

“Well, I meant to check before, but things got kind of busy.”

“Cosima.” Cosima glanced up, seeing fond amusement and a small smile on Delphine’s face. “This is...definitely never where I expected to end up. But when it comes to _us,_ I have never been more okay.”

“That is…” Cosima huffed, “Actually pretty romantic.”

“What can I say? I’m French.”

“Mm, yes you are.” Cosima giggled, managing to scoot a tiny bit closer to Delphine, despite the already-cramped conditions of the narrow bed. “And you’re okay with being, y’know, queer?”

“I was surprised,” Delphine admitted. “I always assumed I was...not. But I did some research--”

“Research?”

“Yes,” Delphine said, oblivious to Cosima’s amusement. “There have been some studies on sexuality, though they are centered on male homosexuality. But there is some evidence that there are those who are attracted to those of both sexes, oui? Though I never thought about it, it makes sense. The fact that society goes to such lengths to conceal or condemn any sort of...queerness, I suppose, would certainly have helped to make me mistake previous attraction for anything else.”

“You’re adorable,” Cosima laughed, and Delphine stared at her, mouth open in an offended expression. “Your little pout isn’t helping your case.”

“How did you determine your sexuality, then?”

“I did some research too,” Cosima admitted. “Though my research was a little more hands-on. Mostly hands on the Martinelli girl down the street.”

“Cosima!” 

“It’s true!” Cosima sighed. "Good ol' Angie. Wonder where she ended up."

Delphine shook her head, exasperated and drooping tiredly, and Cosima felt exhaustion settling onto her bones as well. She felt guilty almost immediately--if she was tired, despite the serum, Delphine who had been through hell and back must’ve been nearly dead.

“We should sleep,” Cosima said gently, beginning to rub Delphine’s arm again. The blonde mumbled something incoherent into the pillow, making Cosima smile again.

“Hey, Delphine?”

“Mm, _oui?”_

“I--” Cosima stopped and swallowed the words on the tip of her tongue. “It’s nothing. Sleep.”

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------

“...and the last one was around the Maginot line--here-ish.” Cosima circled the area on the map, and a nearby soldier nodded his thanks before rolling the sheet up and whisking it away. Cosima straightened up and rolled her shoulders as he did, the olive-green military uniform she was wearing feeling more ill-fitting than the Captain America outfit ever did.

Delphine, by contrast, looked like the uniform was meant for her--and Cosima didn’t mind the pencil skirt that came with it, seeing as they gave her a very nice view of the blonde’s legs as she spoke with another officer across the room.

“Aren’t you meant to be accepting an award in Washington right now?”

Cosima didn’t jump this time, smiling even before she’d fully turned around to face Agent Carter. “Please. I’m not flying all the way back to the States just to accept some small shiny medal. Especially when the ceremony is going to be full of old senators muttering about how I don’t know my place and then congratulating themselves on being progressive enough to give an award to a ‘little lady.’”

“A woman after my own heart,” the agent commented dryly. 

“Careful there, Agent. Steve might get jealous.”

“That isn’t the way I meant it, and you know it,” Peggy said quickly, a very faint tinge of pink high on her cheeks. Cosima just smirked. “You Americans are insufferable.”

“Funny. Delphine says the same thing.”

“Well then, perhaps Cormier and I have something in common after all.”

As if on cue, Delphine crossed over to the duo, having placated the officer for the moment. Cosima turned to face her almost immediately, both women cautious enough not to hold hands in public, but not quite enough to stop their shoulders and arms from brushing.

“Hey, babe. They looking for information about Hydra again?”

“Yes,” Delphine sighed. “Information that I have explained to them again and again I _do not have.”_ The blonde glanced up and met Agent Carter’s eyes, a small flicker of surprise crossing her face. “Carter.”

“Cormier,” Peggy replied, dipping her head briefly in a half-nod of greeting. After Delphine had told Cosima about her past--so long ago now--Cosima had gone to Agent Carter and, without telling the British agent anything about Delphine’s story, had scolded her about judging others without knowing the entire truth. Since then, the air between Delphine and Peggy had not been as icy as before--more like a wet Fall day, but more painfully awkward.

Even though daggers were no longer flying between them, Cosima still did not like being between the two.

“Captain Sadler?”

“Yes,” Cosima said eagerly, jumping at the chance to escape. “Colonel Phillips, what can I do for you?”

“Lord knows you’re a bit of a pain in my ass, and there have been many a time I’ve wished anyone other than you had gotten superpowered,” the Colonel said, and Cosima’s grin was only the tiniest bit sheepish. “But I have a favor to ask. This map of yours. Can you wipe Hydra off it?”

Cosima’s grin widened, her back straightening and chest puffing out.

“Hell yes, sir.”

“Excellent. We’re putting a team together--”

Cosima’s military stance disappeared in an instant as she objected. “Wait, you’re putting together a team? Of the guys who were best in the academy and who’ve won all their medals on the front, I’m sure. No offense sir,” she said, though quickly and clearly without meaning it, “I’m sure they’re totally capable of dismantling Hydra in theory. But I’m a scientist, always have been, always will be. And I say show, don’t tell.”

“Then what,” Phillips asked tiredly. rubbing at his forehead. “Would Captain America prefer?”

“Let me put a team together. Of all the men best suited for taking Hydra down.”

“And you can find these men, you reckon?”

“Sir,” Cosima said confidently, “I know just the place.”

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------

The bar was crowded and dimly-lit, full of loud chatter and jostling arms, and Cosima quickly found the men she’d been hoping to see.

“We just got out,” one of them said slowly, “Barely escaping with our lives, and you want us all to go back?”

“Basically,” Cosima chirped, undaunted. The men all glanced at each other over pints of beer.

“Sounds...rather fun, actually.”

“I’m in.” 

Two of them burst into French chatter, making Cosima wish Delphine had come along, instead of insisting on staying back at the War Room for whatever reason. When one of them turned back to her and explained that they were both in, however, a bit of the tension that’d been sitting in her stomach eased.

“Hell, I’ll join,” the largest--Dugan--said. “On one condition. Open a tab.”

“Making me pay to watch you all get drunk? You’re cruel, cruel men,” Cosima said, but went to order another round of beer anyway, the sound of their laughter following her up to the counter.

“Barnes,” she said, surprised, when she turned back from the barkeeper to see the man drinking alone. “You alright?”

“No need to worry about me, Cap,” he said, eyes flickering back to where the other men sat drinking. “You’ve got plenty of guys insane enough to follow you, huh?”

“Looks like it,” she said, following his gaze. “Don’t suppose you wanna join us?”

“I would,” he said, half-wistfully and sincere. “I really would. But there’s this kid from Brooklyn, too dumb to run from a fight, who’s now insisting on going to war zones and painting, of all things, never mind the danger.”

“You need to have his back,” Cosima finished, and he nodded. “I get it. Sad to see you go, Barnes, but I get it. Keep your boy safe.”

“You keep your girl safe,” he replied, smirking lopsidedly at Cosima’s surprise. “You guys aren’t nearly as subtle as you’d like to think. Cormier’s good. And so are you.”

“Thanks, Barnes,” Cosima said, laying her hand briefly on his shoulder. He shrugged, more a response then an effort to get her to remove her hand, but she took it away anyway. “Tell Steve hello for me.”

The men at the table were still drinking and laughing, and Cosima slid easily back into her seat among them.

“It looks like it’s just us--”

“You’re wrong there.” Delphine’s voice cut in smoothly, and the other men seemed on choke on their words as they fell suddenly and uncharacteristically silent. Slowly, Cosima turned around.

Delphine had traded in her military uniform for a white dress with black accents that clung to her almost like a second skin, the neckline low and her a few curls framing her face, the rest tied back in an elegant roll.

Cosima suddenly had a hard time breathing.

“There is room for one more on your team, yes?”

“Somebody get the lady a chair,” someone said, and there was a sudden flurry of movement as several men tried to pull out a chair at once. Delphine didn’t even look at them, her gaze on Cosima even as she sat down.

“Delphine…” Cosima swallowed, “You know you don’t have to do this, right? You’ve done enough.”

“Every team needs a medic.”

“Well, yeah, but--”

“Besides, you may need a French translator.”

“At least two of these guys speak French,” Cosima pointed out, eyes fixed on Delphine but gesturing blindly toward the men at the table nonetheless. “Or three.”

“And if they are incapacitated?”

“Then...we’re probably all dead.”

“But who would translate your last words for the enemy?” A small smile was tugging at the corner of Delphine’s mouth, and Cosima found her own expression matching it. “After all, they are sure to be very cheeky. It would be a shame if the enemy never understood.”

“You make a good argument, Doctor Cormier.”

“Besides,” Delphine added with a small shrug, “It will be much safer for you to let me come along.”

“Oh?”

“Yes. Because I will shoot you in the leg myself rather than let you run off to war without me.”

Cosima grinned, slowly but widely, and a moment later so did Delphine.

“Well, that settles it.” At some point, the chatter in the bar had started up again, but it was only now that Dugan was speaking with his beer raised that the men at the table began to relax. Remembering that they had an audience, both Cosima and Delphine looked away from each other, though the damage had been done--and none of their observers seemed ready to report them. In fact, they were all smiling. “Welcome aboard, Doc.” 

The others echoed the sentiment, and Delphine flushed slightly as they did, nodding in acknowledgement with a small, cautious smile. A couple of men slapped her on the back, someone called for another round, and sometime in the confusion Cosima’s hand found Delphine’s under the table and they didn’t let go.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------

“So just a couple last-minute things before you ship out again--”

“Are you _missing an eyebrow,_ Howard?”

Howard quickly waved off Delphine’s incredulous comment as she and Cosima followed him through the research levels of the war rooms. “One of the Tesseract fragments was a little more volatile than we expected it to be. Anyway, here we are.” 

He gestured grandly to a table covered in various prototypes, which Cosima moved forward to investigate immediately. Delphine hung back, waiting to hear Howard’s explanations before she went to fiddle with things. 

“You like the shield, right Nie--Sadler? I’ve been tinkering with the basic design a bit, adding some offensive aspects-- _don’t touch that,”_ he finished quickly, darting forward and taking the prototype Cosima had been poking at out of her hands, just as she was about to press a small button on its underside. 

“What’s that, then?”

“Flamethrower,” he explained, gingerly setting it back down. “Or possibly miniature explosive dispersal. I didn’t label the switches too clearly.”

“Okay.” Cosima was about to pick up another when she saw something glinting underneath the table. “What’s this?”

“That’s nothing, that’s just--”

She pulled it out and lifted it, surprised at how light it felt in her hands. The shield was perfectly circular, silver and shining, and seemed to fit perfectly as she slid her arm through the straps on the back. She knocked on it experimentally, and felt no vibration.

“Is this _vibranium?”_

“Yup,” Howard said, sounding resigned. “100%. Strong as steel, a third the weight, and totally vibration-absorbent.”

“That’s the rarest--how did you find this much of it?”

“That’s all of it,” he said simply. “Every scrap we could pull together.”

Cosima swung her arm back and forth before skimming the fingers of her other hand across the surface, reveling in the smooth, seamless texture. “I’ll take it.”

“Are you sure? This one has electric--”

“Stark,” she said firmly. “I’ll take it.” 

He sighed and muttered something about soldiers not appreciating the latest advancements, but didn’t put up a fight beyond that. Cosima saw Delphine staring and grinned broadly, holding it up so it shone in the light.

“Cool, right?”

“Yes, it is very cool,” Delphine commented, “But does it work?”

“I’ll let you shoot it, if you want.” 

“That’s all right,” Delphine replied, “I think I trust Howard’s science enough.” 

“Mm,” Cosima said noncommittally, testing the shield’s heft again. She’d never been quite sure how she’d felt about Delphine and Howard’s relationship, especially after what Delphine had told her about her past, but Delphine seemed fine, and she was willing to follow the blonde’s lead.

Besides, a few days and it was back to the battlefield. There were bigger things to worry about.

“That reminds me,” Howard called suddenly, sticking his head back into the room. “Steve--Rogers, I mean, the arts guy? He had some ideas about the uniform.”

“So long as it’s not a skirt,” Cosima groaned, and Delphine laughed.

“I think you would look quite fetching in a star-spangled skirt, _ma cherie.”_

“Yeah?” Cosima asked. “Well, I think you look quite fetching right now.”

“Oh, you are the more fetching of the two of us,” Delphine said, her voice suddenly lower and laced with something more. Cosima quickly put the shield back on the table and slid her arm through Delphine’s, holding her just the tiniest bit too close for them to be just friends.

Her voice too low for anyone to hear, she murmured, “Let’s get out of here, Doctor Cormier.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope everyone who celebrates it had a lovely Thanksgiving, and even if you didn't, that you enjoyed the chapter! You can always say hi in the comments, or on tumblr at probablytatiana <3


	21. Twenty-One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for: Implied sex, war and violence, implications of past sexual assault

Cosima was idly tracing constellations in the freckles on Delphine’s back when the blonde stirred, murmuring sleepily before her eyes opened.

“Hey, sleepy.”

 _“Bonsoir,”_ Delphine mumbled, blinking slowly and stretching. “Have you been awake long?”

Cosima shrugged, putting her head back on the pillow so she could look Delphine in the eye. “Super-serum means less sleep, I guess. I’ve been managing three or four hours a night.”

“That sounds difficult.”

“It’s weird, yeah,” Cosima agreed. “But it’s also pretty convenient. I’ve caught up on a lot of reading and stuff. Plus, you’re really pretty when you sleep.” Delphine sighed, embarrassed and exasperated, and Cosima chuckled before sobering. “You talk in your sleep, you know.”

Delphine went stiff, her face going blank. “Ah.” 

“I didn’t recognize the language,” Cosima said, as casually as she could. “It wasn’t French--”

“It was Yiddish,” Delphine explained quickly. “We--it was my grandfather’s language. Yiddish was always spoken at home.”

Cosima hesitated, the two of them facing each other and so close she could see the flecks of gold in Delphine’s honey eyes. “Do you wanna talk about it?”

“Do you want to talk about why you didn’t invite Felix to come raid Hydra bases with us?” Delphine challenged, and Cosima huffed, rolling over so she was facing the ceiling instead of her lover. “Cosima…”

Cosima kept staring at the white ceiling of the hotel room they were in, not responding when Delphine reached over and tried to take her hand.

“You already know why I didn’t ask Felix to come. This is more dangerous than anything on the front, and I have to keep my little brother safe.” Delphine stilled, and slowly pulled her hand back. “You of all people get that.”

Delphine said nothing, and after several moments Cosima turned back to face the blonde. She met Delphine’s eyes again, the honey depths blanker than before. “Was your brother older than you?”

“Younger,” Delphine whispered. “Three years younger.”

“Do you miss--?”

“Every day.” Delphine shut her eyes, her whisper turning choked. “Every moment.”

“You see, I couldn’t--” Cosima reached out to cup Delphine’s cheek, her thumb brushing over the woman’s cheekbone. “I’m not strong like you are. I could never survive that.”

Delphine shook her head wordlessly, eyes still closed, and Cosima moved closer, still holding Delphine.

They stayed like that until the tension began to ease from Delphine’s shoulders and the sun began to creep in, the start of the day no longer possible to ignore.

“Hey,” Cosima said gently, “You want breakfast? They’ve got bacon.”

Delphine opened her eyes at last, staring at Cosima blankly for several moments. Cosima, confused, stared back.

“Cosima,” she said at last, slowly. “Bacon is pig. I do not eat pork.”

“I--oh. _Oh,_ right, shit, sorry, um, I knew that, sorry, uh, _shit--”_

“It’s fine,” Delphine said, her voice tinged with laughter. “Eggs will be fine.”

“Yeah. Eggs. I’ll go get eggs. Um, can I eat bacon, or…?”

“You may eat all the pig you like,” Delphine said, and Cosima’s shoulders slumped in relief. She hopped off the bed, hand on the doorknob when Delphine’s voice stopped her again. _“Cherie?”_

“Yeah?”

“You may want to put on some clothes.”

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------

The morning they shipped out was bright and clear, the chill of early morning just beginning to turn sharp enough to bite as they piled onto the airplane. The briefing was short and simple--they were going to be dropped off not far from one of the bases, they would march until they found it, and then they would take it out.

Simple.

Cosima’s mouth was dry as they neared the drop-off point, hair pulled into a high ponytail and lensless black glasses perched on her nose. She was half-tempted to run up to the pilot and tell him there’d been a mistake, she was nothing but a researcher, and they should turn around right this moment.

Some of her nerves must’ve shown on her face, because a large hand was suddenly clapping her on the back and Dugan’s gruff voice was breaking into her nervous thoughts.

“Relax, Cap,” he said, with an easy confidence she envied. “You destroyed one, you can destroy a few more. Besides,” he added, hand squeezing her shoulder in a way that was surprisingly comforting. “We’ve all got your back. This isn’t all on you, kid.”

“Plus, I hear you once pinned Agent Carter while sparring,” Morita added, “Super-soldier or not, that’s _damn_ impressive. You can do that, you can do anything.”

“Hear, hear,” Dugan called, and then they were all looking at each other and grinning, and all the grins were tinged with fear. They were all afraid. They were all here, with each other’s backs, ready to do this anyway.

“We’re nearly there, fellas,” the pilot’s voice crackled back to them, and all around her Cosima saw men taking steadying breaths, hands drifting toward guns just to check they were there, knuckles turning white even as faces were schooled to be devoid of fear.

“How do you Americans say it?” Delphine asked, her accent exaggerated in a way that always made Cosima smile. “Let us go kick some Hydra ass?”

“Doc’s got it!” Dugan crowed, and then they were all laughing again as the plane swooped lower over Nazi territory.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------

The days never turned mundane, but after a few weeks they all settled into a strange sort of routine--several nights of camping and scouting during which they would all nearly die of boredom and inaction, followed by a few intense hours of life-or-death fighting, full of explosions and gunshots and fear.

The boredom was nearly as fatal as the bullets, and Cosima thanked God she’d brought the team she had, rather than whatever stone-faced and elite forces she was sure Phillips would’ve assigned.

And she thanked God for Delphine.

The men in the unit--the Howling Commandos, as Dugan had informed her--had figured out she and Delphine were in a relationship long before they’d even stepped into the field, and other than the jokes about military lovebirds, none of them seemed to mind. They all relied on Delphine as much as they relied on each other in the field, since no matter how chaotic the fighting was, Delphine was always no more than a few paces behind, medical pack on her back and trying to keep an eye on all of them at once.

The task became monumentally easier when once, while joking around and waiting for their next orders from Washington, someone had tossed the inexperienced doctor a rifle and challenged her to a sharpshooting contest. 

Delphine had hit every target, and on the next mission she found herself in a tree armed with a sniper rifle.

Though she’d never been an overlooked member of the team, Delphine was suddenly elevated to a central part of it, never far from Cosima’s side. The footage sent to Washington more often than not showed Delphine bent over a map, pointing out strategic points and weaknesses, while Cosima stared at the blonde as if she was all the stars in one body.

Other times, Cosima would explain strategy and assign tasks, and Delphine would watch as if she was unable to tear her eyes away, as if Cosima was the sun.

And at night, every night, they would fall into each other’s arms. 

Cosima learned what touches reminded Delphine too much of Aldous’s fingers, learned how to comfort the blonde, memorized the constellations on Delphine’s back and the way her own name sounded when the blonde gasped it.

Delphine learned how to say _no_ and that it was alright to say it, learned that Cosima had night terrors too and how to pull her out of them, she learned the taste of Cosima’s mouth and made an atlas of the curves and ridges of Cosima’s body, and revered every inch.

“What do you think we’ll do after this?” Cosima asked one night, voice rough and tired, but the question suddenly urgent. “After the war is done, after this is all over?” 

“We could go back to Stark’s lab,” Delphine murmured, “Or work with the SSR. I’m sure the government would like to have you as spokesperson,” she added, and Cosima made a disgusted face.

“I’m not going to do _that.”_ Her face relaxed, turning serious again. “But whatever it is, wherever we end up...will you be there? With me?”

“Of course,” Delphine said readily, her eyes looking steadily into Cosima’s and her hand warm in the brunette’s. “I will never leave you.”

The next day, they were given intelligence that Armin Zola would be travelling by train, and orders to intercept him.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------

“This would be a really bad time to tell you I’m afraid of heights, right?”

The wind howled across the mountainside they all stood on, and Delphine tore her gaze away from the train tracks below just long enough to give Cosima a disbelieving look. Cosima just grinned, unrepentant, and Delphine smirked despite herself.

“We were right, Zola’s on the train,” Jones confirmed behind them, hunched over the stolen radio. Delphine and Cosima both turned around, the mood sober again. “Hydra dispatcher just gave him permission to open up the throttle. Wherever he’s going, they need him bad.”

“Well, he’s not gonna get there,” Cosima replied, checking that her shield was firmly secured to her back before helping the rest of the men get set up on the zipline. Dernier said something in French, and Delphine responded in kind.

“We have a ten-second window,” Delphine explained for the benefit of the rest of them. They started to fall into formation, Delphine directly at Cosima’s back as always. “Do _not_ miss that window.”

“What Doc means, I believe, is that at 11 seconds, we’re bugs on a windshield,” Dugan piped up. “So let’s move, bugs!” 

Cosima snorted, but got into position anyway, bouncing slightly on the line as if to test its strength. The train’s rumble was impossible to ignore now, like thunder as it rolled closer, a black snake against the white snow. She glanced back and saw Delphine staring, something hard and flinty in her eyes that didn’t match their warm color.

Zola was on that train.

“You ready, babe?”

Delphine dragged her eyes from the train to her lover, a bit of the hardness leaving her features. She stepped forward and laid a gloved hand on the side of Cosima’s neck. Cosima responded by grabbing the front of the taller woman’s uniform and standing on her tiptoes, pulling her in for a kiss that tasted like sharp frost and aching love.

“Again, lovebirds?”

“Shut up, Jones, it’s kinda sweet.”

Delphine stepped back, running her hand down Cosima’s arm one last time, both women working to smile reassuringly at each other.

Cosima faced the rest of the men. She straightened her back and put steel in her eyes, a cocky grin on her face.

“Let’s go, boys!” she called, the wind whipping the words from her mouth as soon as she spoke.

Like a child on a rope swing, Cosima jumped, and a moment later her shoulders jolted as the line held and the world rushed past, useless glasses tucked safe in a breastpocket next to the telegram from months ago as the cold and speed made tears spring into her eyes.

Her vision blurred--but not enough to obscure the train below.

She held her breath and let go, determinedly not thinking about the sheer drop on either side of the racing train, and landed nearly soundlessly on its back. Half a heartbeat later, there was the faint thud of Delphine landing behind her, and Cosima finally breathed again.

She crawled along the train car, crouched as low to the surface as she could until she found the ladder leading down the side. Delphine was right behind her, pulling her rifle off her back and setting up guard while Cosima climbed down, fumbling for the door handle.

Her hand closed around it, and she looked up at Delphine, squinting through the glare off the snow. Delphine nodded once, sharply, and in one smooth movement Cosima pulled open the door and rolled inside.

It was strangely silent after the screaming wind outside, the roar of the train reduced to a rumble. A moment later, Delphine tumbled in, stumbling to her feet and pulling the door shut behind her.

“They never lock these doors,” Cosima said with a smirk.

“Perhaps because they never expect people to break in while the train is moving,” Delphine replied, reading her rifle again. “Because only someone insane would think of that.”

“I remember a certain blonde agreeing to this plan.” 

“Yes, well…”

They spoke in whispers, back to back and hugging the wall. Cosima moved a few steps ahead of Delphine, easing into the next compartment. It was naturally, dark and foreboding, full of shelves stacked high with the same crates that had been in the last car. She squinted at the labels stenciled onto them, struggling to make it out in the dim light.

_Biologisce Waffen._

_Biological weapon._

Unable to resist, Cosima stopped next to one of them and dug her fingers beneath a loose board, the wood giving way easily under her hands. Delphine kept moving along the car, pulling her gloves off and stashing them in a pocket so her fingers felt less clumsy on the trigger.

“Cosima--”

“I know, two secs.”

Cosima brushed away the hay packed into the boxes--padding, no doubt--to reveal a gun, shining and unused, new and _deadly._

With a bit of blue Tessaract shining in its core.

She’d been doing her best to block out the images from the fights at the Hydra bases, the way men simply disappeared when one of these weapons were turned on them. They exploded in a way that wasn’t even human, into blackened bits that could’ve been anything, before disappearing into nothing.

And this was an arsenal that must’ve contained hundreds of these guns, in this train car alone.

“Delphine,” she whispered, “Delphine, they’ve got enough here to arm the entire continent.”

Something slammed behind her, and Cosima whirled around to see Delphine’s face pressed against the window of a door that was suddenly locked.

 _“Delphine!”_ Cosima rammed her shoulder into the door, hissing angrily when it didn’t make a dent. Delphine pounded her hand against the door only to freeze and turn away.

The metal door did nothing to muffle the sound of gunfire.

 _“DELPHINE!”_ Cosima shouted again, backing up to take a running start at the door when she went rigid, something emitting a high-pitched whine behind her.

She slammed herself against the wall, the blast from a Hydra gun passing less than an inch from her nose.

Gunfire rang through the next car, and Cosima closed her eyes, shoving the thoughts of whatever was happening there aside.

_Compartmentalize._

_Survive._

She pulled out the shield and hunched behind it, gritting her teeth as a blast hit it. 

_“Stop her! Fire again!”_ an accented voice shouted--it must’ve been Zola, watching from somewhere safe--crackling through the speakers, and two more blasts came in quick succession, both going wide and hitting the wall. She braced herself for another blast, but instead there was a pause before the high-pitched whine began again.

_Charging period. He’s defenseless--_

Cosima hadn’t even finished the thought before she was running out of her hiding spot and launching herself across the car with a battle cry. She made it to the top of a pile of crates before he managed to get a shot off, and she ducked for a moment to block it with her shield before vaulting off the stack and slamming her feet into his face.

He dropped to the floor and Cosima landed in a crouch beside him, slinking over to the door separating her from Delphine with every intention of breaking it down.

That was when the door slid open smoothly and Delphine stepped out, breathing heavily and with her hair now loose around her face, but _alive._

“How did you--?"

“There is a button next to the doors,” Delphine explained. “It opens them.”

“Oh.”

“Are you all right?” she asked, crossing over to where Cosima was. “Unhurt?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine--really, I am.” 

“Good, good.” Delphine’s chest was still heaving as her eyes swept up and down Cosima’s body--searching for injuries the brunette hadn’t told her about, no doubt. She still had her handgun clenched in one hand. “Are you--”

 _“Get down!”_ Cosima dragged Delphine behind the shield, having seen the movement out of the corner of her eye almost too late, and then the Hydra soldier’s blast hit her shield. She flew backward and slammed into the wall of the train, dimly registering the crunch of metal and the freezing air blowing in through the new hole in the train’s wall as she struggled to catch her breath.

 _“Kill her!”_ Zola shouted. _“Now!”_

Delphine snarled--actually snarled--and grabbed the shield Cosima had dropped, holding it in one arm and shooting with the other.

A bullet caught the soldier in the head and he dropped, unmoving, to the ground.

But not before he’d managed to fire one last shot, hitting the shield dead center. 

One moment Delphine had been standing in front of Cosima, like an avenging angel, and the next, she was gone.

 _“Delphine!”_ Cosima was at the edge of the gaping hole in the train’s side before she’d even realized she’d stood, panic whiting out any thought. _Delphine. Delphine. Delphine._

Delphine was clinging to a section railing on the side of the train with both hands, feet dangling over a chasm hundreds of feet deep. There was pure terror in her eyes when she met Cosima’s. Cosima crawled along the section of railing closest to her, reaching out desperately. 

_“Take my hand!”_

Delphine’s hand was trembling as she reached out, her fingertips less than an inch too short. Cosima grabbed wildly, her hand closing over nothing but air. The metal supports holding up Delphine’s section of railing groaned and creaked.

 _“Come on!”_ Cosima shouted, no idea who she was addressing. _“Please!”_

The metal gave way.

Delphine screamed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Chanukah to those who celebrate it!
> 
> Come yell at me in the comments, or on tumblr at probablytatiana. Thank you all so much for reading!


	22. Twenty-Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for: Violence and the aftermath, and discussions of war and Nazis.

“I’ve got you,” Cosima shouted, her hand almost dangerously tight around Delphine’s wrist. The railing tumbled to the bottom of the ravine and out of sight. “I’ve got you, I’ve got you, I’ve got you.”

Delphine’s fingers were limp next to Cosima’s wrist, but Cosima could see her looking up--she was alive, she was conscious, she was hanging from a moving train but she was going to be okay.

If Cosima could get her back inside.

“Delphine,” Cosima called, struggling to make herself heard over the wind and rattle of the train. “Grab onto me, I’ll pull you back inside.”

“There’s a tunnel,” Delphine shouted back, her words faint but unmistakable. “Let me go, get back inside or you’ll be crushed!”

“Delphine--”

_“Ma cherie,_ I’m sorry--”

“Don’t you _fucking dare,”_ Cosima growled, her grip tightening on Delphine’s wrist. “ No self-sacrificing bullshit. You’re never going to leave me, right? So _don’t.”_

Delphine stared at Cosima, and Cosima stared back, her mind running in circles. _Don’t leave me. Not here, not now, not ever. Don’t leave me._

_I love you._

Delphine’s fingers closed around Cosima’s wrist.

“Cap? You in here?”

“Morita!” Cosima shouted, flinching as the train hit a bump in the track. “Could use a hand!”

“Shit,” Morita hissed, sticking his head out the gap to see the two of them clinging on. He ducked back inside, his shout of “The Allies are down!” reverberating around the car. Feet began to thunder down the halls and Morita reappeared, edging out and hooking his arm around Cosima’s waist. “Human chain, Doc. We’ve got you.”

“Tunnel in ten,” Dernier called, voice tight with fear.

“Let go of the wall, Cap,” Dugan said, his normally jovial voice low and rumbling. “We got you.”

Someone pulled on Morita and Morita pulled on her, and Delphine shrieked in a way that sliced into Cosima, and then there was solid floor beneath her, and Delphine was on top of Cosima, panting and keening but solid and _there._

The train disappeared into the tunnel, the car going dark.

“Let’s get into another car,” Falsworth said, pulling Delphine to her feet. Jones was there the next moment, offering his hand to Cosima. She took it and jumped to her feet, barely holding herself back from shoving the other men aside to get to Delphine.

“Is she--”

“The next car has light, Cap, we’ll see to her then.”

The group shouldered its way into the next car, Falsworth closing the door while Dugan and Morita eased Delphine into a sitting position. She was still gasping, cradling one arm, but she shook her head as they both tried to help her.

“Zola--”

“Gagged and bound, Doc. Take it easy.”

“Delphine.” Cosima half-ran forward to kneel in front of Delphine, ripping off one of her gloves to lay her hand against the blonde’s cheek. “Delphine, babe, talk to me.”

“I’m fine,” Delphine insisted, even though her face was still contorted in pain. “Cosima, ma cherie, it’s just--” She gasped in pain before biting her lip, one hand probing at her shoulder. “A dislocated shoulder. I’m fine.”

“You are _not,”_ she snapped, grabbing Delphine’s good hand and pressing it to her chest. “You were--God, Delphine, you were--”

“I’m here now,” Delphine whispered, head dropping so her forehead rested against Cosima’s. “I’m here. I’m not leaving. I’m never leaving.”

Cosima took a shuddering breath, running her thumb over the back of Delphine’s hand over and over. Finally, she straightened up to face the rest of the men, all of whom were tactfully pretending they hadn’t been watching the previous scene.

“‘The Allies’?” she asked, blinking away the wetness in her eyes. “Really, Dum-Dum?”

“France, America, lovers,” Dugan said with a shrug. “I thought it was clever.”

“You think everything’s clever, that’s your problem.”

The comment wasn’t even very funny, but it was as if the mood cracked open and they all started laughing, the car filled with everything from deep chortles to light giggles as they all relaxed a fraction.

“You know,” Jones said, slapping Dernier on the back. “Frenchie here took out two agents by himself--after he nearly jumped out of the train in fear.”

“Fear?” he asked, mouth dropping open in offense as the rest of the laughs redoubled. “You all should’ve seen this man’s face when he saw the agent behind him! _Courir comme un lapin!”_

“Hey!” 

Cosima snorted, scooting over so she was sitting next to Delphine, her head resting on Delphine’s good shoulder as she told Jones how to pop her shoulder back in while Morita cut cloth for a sling, interrupting one of Dugan’s stories with an anecdote of his own as he did.

“Ready?” Jones asked, his hands hovering over Delphine’s arm. Her hand tightened on Cosima’s and she nodded.

The chatter stopped abruptly as Delphine grunted in pain, her shoulder popping back in with a sound that even Cosima the scientist flinched away from. Delphine sagged, her breathing evening out as Morita started attempting to wrap her arm.

“You’ve never done this before, have you?” she asked after his third attempt.

“Hey, it’s just tying your arm to your chest, right?”

“...No,” Delphine said, slowly and flatly, and the mood relaxed again as she tried to teach him one-handed.

“You’ve got a good girl there, Cap,” Dugan said as the train ground to a halt, Falsworth and Jones on either side of Zola as they escorted him off the train and into the waiting officer’s hands.

“Yeah,” Cosima said, grinning. “Yeah, I do.”

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------

For an air raid shelter, the underground room was surprisingly good for parties.

Cosima was surrounded by soldiers, all loud and intoxicated, and she shouted along with the best of them, sloshing a bit of beer out of her mug for good measure.

“We both know you’re not actually drunk, Captain.” Agent Carter’s voice, crisp with just a hint of a smile, was unmistakable.

“Don’t blow my cover, Peggy,” Cosima said, grinning widely. 

“Hoping to win a few more drinking contests?” 

“You know it,” she said, but she set the pint aside as she did, following the SSR agent to a quieter corner of the packed room. “I haven’t seen you since Austria.” 

“I’ve seen you. I’m part of the team monitoring you,” Peggy explained at Cosima’s look. “The footage from your camps, the Hydra bases--it comes back to us. You’ve been busy.”

“There’s one base to go,” Cosima said, her shrug casual even as the mood sobered. “500 feet underground, best supplied--the headquarters, or at least all they’ve got left.” She shook her head, running a finger across the lip of her glass. “You know all this.” 

“I do,” Peggy agreed. “What’s your plan?” 

“To walk through their front door with a lot of guns.” Cosima smirked darkly. “We haven’t got the time to be artistic or sneaky now, as much as all the other generals want to be. Schmidt’s only getting crazier, y’know? But he’s also getting stronger, and he’s gonna get followers for his grand, fucked-up scheme. we have to take him out before that happens.” 

“What does Cormier think of this plan?”

“I...haven’t really told her yet,” Cosima said, taking another drink of the beer. “She’s really not going to be in favor of it.”

“She is going to find out once you barge into that base,” Peggy pointed out, looking at Cosima critically. “I do hope you’re going to tell her before then.”

“What do you care?” Cosima challenged, but without any actual accusation in her voice. Peggy shook her head, her lips still quirked in a small smile. 

“I care about you,” she said, “And I’ve never _hated_ Cormier. Found her incredibly distasteful, maybe--but you were right,” she said quickly, when Cosima’s gaze threatened to turn into a glare. “I was...being petty.” 

“I wouldn’t say petty,” Cosima allowed, relaxing again. “You’re proud of where you are, of course you’d be upset if someone swooped in and got her own job without even trying. I meant what I said, though, Peggy. I like you, I do. But Delphine...” She can’t say it aloud, not when she hasn’t said it to the one person who needs to hear it, so she bites her tongue before continuing. “Delphine’s been through enough. I won’t let you hurt her too.” 

Peggy just stared at her for a long moment, long enough that Cosima’s bravado faded to self-consciousness.

“What?” 

“People like you. Like Steve,” the agent said, looking exasperated and awestruck at the same time. “I don’t understand you. But the world is lucky to have you.” 

“What are we like?” Cosima asked, bewildered.

“You’re good.” 

“I’m not--it’s not like--” Cosima ducked her head so she was looking into the last dregs of beer in her glass instead of at the other woman’s face, raising one hand to try and wave her off. “I’m just doing what I gotta do.”

For lack of anything else to do, Cosima quickly downed the last of her beer and grimaced.

“You know your beer is terrible, right?” 

“Excuse me?” Peggy scoffed, laughter lighting her eyes again. “You Americans have terrible taste.”

“Maybe, but you’ve got excellent taste in Americans. How’s Steve?”

“Fine, he’s--he’s good. We’re both good. His lungs are giving him some trouble again, but…”

“I’m sorry,” Cosima said, tamping down the urge to take the other woman’s hand. “He was meant to get this--to be healed. I wish I could do something for him.”

“You know he doesn’t blame you. Not either of you, not anymore.” 

“Still,” Cosima sighed before looking Peggy in the eye, a new determination burning in her. “Once we pull off this mission--once this last Hydra base is destroyed--I’m going back to the lab. I’m going to recreate Erskine’s formula, and Steve is gonna be the first to get it.”

“I think Congress will have a few objections to their best soldier abandoning the war.” 

“Congress can deal with it,” Cosima replied, nose in the air, and Peggy snorted. “I’m serious. I may be a captain, but I’m no soldier. I never was. I’m a scientist, and the lab is my home. You have no idea how much I want to go back.”

“No, I don’t suppose I do,” Peggy mused. The ruckus around them continued--soldiers and alcohol in a confined space meant the sort of party that stopped for no man or woman--but it felt as if the two of them had ended up in their own corner of the world. “I enlisted as soon as I could, and I’ve been fighting my way up the ranks since. I don’t know how to be anything but an agent, really.”

“Then why don’t we just switch?” Cosima asked, half-seriously. “I’ll leave the saving of the world to you, and then I’ll go and cure every goddamn disease known to man.” 

Peggy lifted her whiskey, smiling. “I’ll hold you to that, Captain.”

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------

“I don’t like this plan, Cosima.”

“You’re really predictable, you know that?”

Cosima and Delphine sat in a small room off the main underground war rooms, a tiny oasis off the chaos of troops and officers preparing for a final advance. Delphine was leaning against a table, curls pulled straight and tight against her head in a military bun that matched her olive-green uniform. Cosima was facing away from her, looking into a mirror as she tied back her own dark curls, her red, white, and blue uniform sitting comfortably like a second skin.

“You plan to walk into--”

“An underground Hydra base and attempt to take down Schmidt, we have been _over this.”_

“Yes, because you will not listen.” Delphine took a few steps closer to Cosima, who determinedly did not look back at her. “This is _insane._ This is--”

“Our only option,” Cosima bit out, her hands dropping to her sides and clenching into fists. “Damnit, Delphine, according to Zola, we’ve got less than twenty hours at this point. There is not time to be artistic, or scientific, or whatever we normally are. We both oversaw the organization of the backup troops, the heavy artillery, the air forces. This is as good as it’s going to get, and they still need someone to go in the front.” 

_“But it doesn’t have to be you!”_

_“Well, who else is it going to be?”_ Cosima shouted back, slamming her fist into the wall hard enough to crack it. “Am I supposed to order someone else to do it for me? To face the guns, to face Schmidt? How am I supposed to ask someone to do that?”

“You’re a captain, they would listen--” 

“I’m a _scientist._ A doctor, or at least I wanted to be. I can barely live with myself for even fighting these battles, how would I survive making someone else?” She turned to face Delphine at last, her voice steady even as her eyes pleaded. “It’s their choice to follow me or not. It’s their choice to fight to the death. I won’t make that decision for them. Don’t make it for me.” 

“You are asking me to let you--to decide to throw your life away--”

“I’m asking you to let me make _my_ decisions about _my_ life, Delphine. You know how important--”

“Do _not,”_ Delphine said, her voice tight and shaking. “Try to tell me how important it is to end this. How evil the Nazis are, how much better the world will be with them gone. Do you think I don’t know? Do you think I don’t _remember?”_

“Then you get it, Delphine,” Cosima pressed, the two of them mere footsteps apart now. “Why I have to do this--how much bigger this is.” 

“Of course I do,” Delphine said, “Of course, I--” She stopped and took a deep breath, bringing her gaze up from the floor to meet Cosima’s. “It’s your life, Cosima. But it’s your _life.”_

“And I’ll be careful with it,” Cosima promised, “I’ll come back to you. But I have to do this.”

“Fine,” Delphine said at last, her voice steady again. “I will not stop you from running into this battle. But you cannot stop me from having your back.”

“Delphine…” Cosima swallowed, blinking hard. Delphine closed the last few feet of space between them, her hands on Cosima’s cheeks, her voice so full of emotion it took Cosima’s breath away. 

“Haven’t I told you, _ma cherie?_ I will never leave you.”

“Captain? Doctor Cormier?” The two pulled apart almost too slowly, Cosima holding tight to Delphine’s wrist when the other woman tried to take a step away. Phillips just sighed, looking older than Cosima had ever seen him. 

“It’s time.”

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------

An Alpine forest was the last place Agent Carter and Delphine Cormier had expected to encounter each other again.

Peggy was overseeing the organization of the troops that would serve as the second wave of attack on the Hydra base, out of place but undeniably in charge in her leather jacket and slacks. Delphine confidently picked her way across the forest floor, ignoring the stares she was getting from the soldiers around her.

“Are you joining my unit, Miss Cormier?” 

“Hardly, Miss Carter. I am here to have Cosima’s back.” Delphine’s eyes slid from the agent’s face to the machine gun she held against her chest. “And to get a gun.”

“When I met you,” Peggy continued, as if Delphine hadn’t spoken. “I made some judgements. Justified at the time, maybe, but I chose to not try and correct them.” 

Delphine took a deep breath and pulled her shoulders back, looking the agent in the eye. “I made no effort to correct you, either. You could say there was some fault on both sides.”

“I would say the fault is mostly mine.”

“Maybe,” Delphine replied, “But you did train Cosima. I know that what you taught her has helped keep her alive--and for that, I am grateful.” 

“After I tried to stop you from injecting her with the serum.” 

“Yes, because your Steve needs it.” Delphine sighed, guilt-stricken and unrepentant. “I know something about doing terrible things for the ones we love.”

They both whirled around at the sound of a footstep, Peggy’s gun raised and ready to fire in the blink of an eye. 

A nervous private stared at them wide-eyed, and Peggy huffed as she lowered her gun.

“This is not the place or time,” Delphine said, eyes darting around the trees before settling back on Peggy. “Not for this discussion--or for old grudges.” 

“You’re quite right.” After a moment’s hesitation, Peggy lifted the strap of her own machine gun off her shoulder and offered it to the doctor. Delphine frowned, confused.

“Won’t you--”

“I can get another. It’s hardly as if the Americans have a shortage of guns.” Peggy waited until Delphine took the gun and slung the strap over her own shoulder, looking unsurprised at the weight.

“You know how to use it, I trust.” 

“Oui. Point and shoot, no?”

“Point and shoot.” Peggy smiled at Delphine, her posture military but her eyes warm, and Delphine found herself matching the expression. “Good luck, Doctor.” 

“And you, Agent.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't believe we're already here, but next week is the final chapter and the "post-credits" scene. I can't thank you enough for sticking around so long.
> 
> Come say hi in the comments, or on tumblr! My ask is always open at probablytatiana.
> 
> Have wonderful weeks!


	23. Twenty-Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for: fighting and battles, racist/eugenical comments, angst.

“Arrogance may not be a uniquely American trait, but I must say you do it better than anyone.”

“Says the monologuing man with a villain name,” Cosima muttered from where she knelt on the floor. It earned her a kick in the side from one of the two Hydra goons flanking her. She grunted in pain, and Schmidt continued pacing as if he hadn’t been interrupted. The light from the windows in his office glinted off his waxy red head in a nauseating way.

As creepy as it was, she wished he had the pseudo-flesh mask back.

She’d charged the front door of the Hydra base, riding in on a motorcycle she’d commissioned, and had been captured a few feet into the courtyard. By Hydra goons with flamethrowers for arms. 

What would they think of next.

“You are trying to reach so far above your station, _fraulein._ So far beyond where you are meant to be. What was Erskine thinking, in those last days, hm?” He bent so their faces were inches apart and slowly lifted Cosima’s glasses off her face, ignoring her glare as if she were nothing more than a petulant child. “What could he see in someone like you, to waste on you what was _rightfully mine?”_

“You want to know what he saw?” Cosima challenged, tilting her head and staring directly into his eyes. “What made me better?” She can see it in Schmidt’s eyes, the need to know, the desperation for answers he was trying to hide. She dropped her voice to a whisper, rolling the words around like candy. “What made me special?”

Almost imperceptibly, Schmidt leaned closer.

_“Absolutely nothing._ I’m a queer woman, and I’m just as worthy as you are.” She grinned, her eyeteeth showing. “Bet that drives you nuts, huh?” 

Schmidt snorted as if amused and dropped his gaze, slowly straightening up. He nodded to the soldiers, who each grabbed Cosima roughly around the arms and jerked her to her feet.

“You wanna duke it out--”

Schmidt’s hand connected to her face with a slap that reverberated around the room, the buckle on the back of his glove cutting into her cheek. Cosima sucked in a breath, and his hand cracked across her face again, her head snapping in the opposite direction.

His fist plowed into her stomach and Cosima staggered, held up by the soldiers on either side of her as she gasped, feeling as if she’d just been attacked with a sledgehammer. 

“Had enough now?”

“I’m just getting started.”

“Hm.” Schmidt smirked, running a finger under her chin and tilting her head back. Cosima wondered if she could spit hard enough to hit the red face that loomed almost a foot above her. “Your determination is admirable, for someone so naturally fragile. But I am on a schedule, I’m afraid.”

“Yeah? So am I.”

Glass shards burst across the once-immaculate office floor, and Dernier, Jones, and Dugan burst in through the windows, rolling across the floor and firing. Schmidt managed to reach for his gun, but Cosima went limp, startling the already confused Hydra agents enough to make them fall on top of her. She shut her eyes as the blue light blazed, and the men disappeared.

Gunshots rang through the room as she crawled across the floor, shards of glass crunching beneath her. Her hand hit something solid and she grabbed it without thinking, twisting and firing before one of the Hydra soldiers could shoot. 

“Cap!” The fighting died down, Schmidt having disappeared in the chaos. Dernier raised a familiar red, white, and blue shield before tossing it her way. “You might need this!”

She caught it easily, the straps fitting snugly over her forearm. “Thanks!”

They ran from the room, the three falling naturally into formation behind her as they abandoned the office for the underground tunnels of the main part of the base. The tunnels were dark and sloping, swarming with Hydra soldiers, with the occasional burst of gunfire scattering them.

It wasn’t long before she’d been separated from the rest of the men, at the end of one hallway with another flamethrower-armed Hydra officer at the other. She was tucked into an alcove, so the flames just passed her by, but there was only so long she could stay there--and of course her shield was out of reach, down the hallway and wedged between two doors that’d been closing.

On instinct, she’d thrown the shield, and now that might be her death sentence.

She stuck her nose out from her hiding spot, just far enough that she could see the soldier still at his post. 

A burst of loud noise made her flinch back, and then she realized it was machine gun fire, not the whine and blast of one of Hydra’s Tessaract-powered guns. A fleet of footsteps followed it, all heading down the hall, but it was Peggy who had fired the gun, and Peggy who Cosima ran toward.

“Peggy--”

“Captain,” she said, brown curls loose around her face. Cosima’s own were escaping the ponytail she’d tied her hair back in, a few strands brushing against her cheeks. “Doctor Cormier was safe, last I saw--armed and holding her own.” 

Cosima’s shoulders slumped a fraction, her questions all answered before she could even speak them. “Peggy,” she murmured, the gun in the other woman’s arms the only thing stopping her from embracing the taller woman. _“Thank you.”_

Peggy shifted uncomfortably where she stood, glancing toward the door. “Weren’t you…?”

“Oh, yeah. Stay safe, Agent.” Cosima jogged over to her shield and wrenched it free from between the doors, squeezing through just before they slammed shut entirely. the sounds of gunfire and shouting seemed to reverberate around every corner of the compound, so she settled for racing toward the nearest burst of noise. The tunnels sloped slightly upward, back toward the surface again. 

The shouting stopped abruptly and the sound of airplane propellers began. Cosima’s heart sank, and she ran faster.

“Shit.” A plane--the largest plane she’d ever seen, a massive triangle that sliced through the air even as it was still earthbound. She ran even faster, her supercharged heart racing in her ears.

And that was when she ran into the Hydra soldiers.

More of them than she’d ever seen, all facing her, all standing between her and that plane.

They fired, and she pulled her shield up before charging, shouting wordlessly as she kicked and clawed her way through the mass, gritting her teeth as punch after punch of Tessaract-powered blasts slammed into her shield. One shot got too close, and the smell of burning hair filled her nostrils.

_Focus, Niehaus. use your surroundings to your advantage._

There were hundreds of them, and one of her. They also had terrible aim.

A soldier aimed at her and she ducked and rolled, his shot obliterating a Hydra goon standing nearby. Cosima closed her eyes, forced herself not to think about it, and ran on.

She nearly ran into the stack of crates, instead skidding ungracefully to a halt a few feet away. She’d managed to scatter most of the soldiers around her, but there were still masses of them-- _cut off one head, two more shall take its place_ \--and the plane continued down the runway.

“Okay,” she muttered, jogging a few steps backward before the surrounding soldiers could get their bearings. “This is a bad idea.” 

She ran and launched herself, praying she hadn’t misjudged the distance, a few blasts skimming past her as she twisted in the air and shoved herself off the top of the stack in a sort of handspring. Sailing through the air, she reached out and grabbed onto a strap dangling from the hangar ceiling, her arm jolting painfully but the momentum enough to swing her over the heads of the Hydra soldiers.

Landing with a grunt, she rolled and then sprung to her feet, the plane over halfway down the runway and quickly approaching the hangar doors. 

Biting her lip, she ran, faster than she’d ever done before, fast enough that even her serum-enhanced muscles and lungs were burning, and watched the plane speed further and further away. 

_I’m not going to make it._

“Cosima!” She turned and saw Delphine, blonde curls whipping around her face as she half-stood, next to Colonel Phillips who was driving a car that looked far too shiny and nice to be military. Delphine had a machine gun on her hip and her uniform was no longer perfectly tucked and creased, and she’d never looked more beautiful. “Get in!” 

Cosima jumped into the car, not bothering to sit down as Phillips sped up again, chasing the plane. “Delphine, Schmidt’s gotta be on that plane!” 

“We’ll get you there,” she promised.

Delphine’s curls were blown almost flat as they drew as close as they could to the plane, the propellers only a few feet away. Cosima took a deep breath, rolled her shoulders to check that her shield was secure on her back, and grabbed the top of the car’s windshield, about to climb over. 

“Colonel, look away!” 

Delphine’s shout startled her enough that she turned, and Delphine grabbed a strap on the front of Cosima’s uniform and pulled her in. 

Kissing Delphine was usually like muting the rest of the world, everything going soft around the edges and fading away so her world would become just the two of them. 

This time wasn’t like that.

Instead, everything seemed to press down harder--the Hydra soldiers chasing them, the screaming propellers and roaring engines of the airplane almost but not quite drowning out the car’s own straining engine, Schmidt and his megalomania and the war just a few hundred miles away, everything Delphine had suffered, everything Cosima had done, the weight of the world on Cosima’s shoulders.

And Delphine, smelling of smoke, sweat, and roses, tasting like may we meet again.

Delphine, saying “I love you.” 

Cosima froze, Delphine’s hand still on her uniform, the plane thundering above them.

“I have to save the world,” she said, and Delphine looked at her with something Cosima didn’t have words for--smiling, tender, and terribly sad. 

“I know,” she said, and let go.

Cosima crawled over the windshield and flattened herself against the car’s front, wincing as the propellers grated against the shield on her back and sent up showers of sparks. The hangar doors opened up in front of them, sunlight glinting off the snow and streaming in. Cosima inched past the propellers and straightened up, just as the plane began to lift off the ground.

_This is a worse idea than vaulting over Hydra goons,_ she thought, and jumped, just as the car beneath her was wrenched violently away.

She managed to wrap her arms around the landing gear, pulled herself up, and forced herself not to look back down, to search for Delphine below her, to see if the car had managed to stop safely.

Because if it hadn’t, she wasn’t going to make it.

Instead, she crawled up the strut, the freezing metal biting through her gloves almost as much as the wind bit through her uniform. The gear began to retract into the plane and Cosima flattened herself against the metal, this time to avoid being crushed. 

With a whirr, the gear retracted completely and the shutters on the bottom of the plane shut, leaving her in near darkness.

It was a moment before her eyes adjusted to the brightness and she blinked, one hand going to adjust her glasses before remembering that Schmidt had taken them.

Even with the rest of her uniform, she felt strangely exposed without them.

She was in something that looked like the cargo bay, light filtering in through distant windows. The plane was flying smoothly, at least, and far more quietly than any of the other planes she’d been in had--a fact that made her hyper-aware of the sound her boots made against the ground.

The sound of her own boots was drowned out by the marching of Hydra soldiers, and she quickly pressed herself into a nearby alcove. They were still some ways away, and dark shapes were stacked and lined the walls of the room. 

_Bombs,_ she realized with a sickening jolt as she stepped toward the sides of the bay, the dark shapes coming into focus. The bay was practically a hangar, and full of them, city’s names stencilled on in precise white paint. 

_Boston. Chicago. San Francisco._

_New York._

The bombs were enormous, large enough for a man to sit inside, and undoubtedly fueled by the Tessaract. The power of a gun with a fragment of Tessaract inside was horrifying--the very idea of a bomb with that power inside, a bomb with that power in _New York--_

A pair of boots clunked against the ground behind her, and Cosima whirled and raised her shield, barely managing to deflect a bright blue blast. She stumbled back, then charged, her shield protecting her head as she ran at him, ramming into him and knocking him to the ground just as a blast of blue light passed over her--if she’d still been upright, it would’ve gone straight through her gut.

She didn’t stop moving, springing off the unconscious soldier in a kind of backflip and pivoting to face the others. Their faces were hidden, but their shuffling feet and hesitation said that they were probably inexperienced.

But there were still four of them, and they were armed.

“Okay,” she muttered, taking a few slow steps backward. The three continued to advance. “Even a bad idea would be good right now.”

As if summoned by her words, she stumbled into a small control panel sticking up from the ground, with a big red button.

She slammed it.

To her left, the plane opened up and one of the bombs fell away, propellor on the back spinning feebly as it plunged through the cloud cover. Frigid wind blasted up through the gap, and Cosima jogged backward, luring them forward. 

One of them fired and she ducked, then charged, pulling the shield back and then slamming it into the man’s side, sending him through the open hole.

“Get them through the window…” she muttered, jumping up and grabbing onto a support beam above her. Cosima swung herself over the second Hydra goon with her legs tucked up to her chest. On the downswing she straightened her legs and locked her knees, and the second man fell through the gap the same as the other. “Gravity does the rest.” 

A blue blast grazed her shield and sent her stumbling back down to the ground, her shield clattering to the floor a few feet away. She fell heavily on her arm and cursed, pulling herself up just in time to see one of them locking himself in the pilot’s seat of one of the bombs.

“Don’t you _dare,”_ Cosima hissed, launching herself at the cockpit and scrabbling at the glass windshield. A moment later another goon slammed into her, and she found herself clinging to the bomb just to stop sliding off.

And then the floor gave way.

The propeller on the back of the bomb started, the sudden forward motion nearly jerking Cosima off the top entirely. The soldier with his arms around her waist didn’t help either.

Out of the corner of her eye, a cloud sailed below her. She made a point of not looking down after that.

The bomb went into a nosedive, Cosima’s gloves slipping on the sleek surface for a heartstopping moment. The soldier around her waist tugged and she swore, her boots scrambling for purchase, and she swung her elbow into his face desperately. 

He let go, and she deliberately did not look back.

The bomb jerked again and Cosima hissed, slipping far too close to the propeller at the back for comfort. She grabbed at the edge of the windshield, digging her fingers in where she’d seen the bomb latch shut, but it didn’t give.

So she punched the glass instead. Her hand ached, but on the second punch the glass began to splinter, the cracks spiderweb-thin but there. She raised her fist again when the top of the bomb popped open, sending her off the side.

The soldier parachuted away, and Cosima clung to the edge of the opening with her fingertips, the air rushing past her ears as the pilot-less bomb began to tilt toward Earth.

“Fuck,” she moaned, kicking against nothing. _“Fuck.”_

She tightened her arms and heaved herself up, half-falling into the seat as the cracked windshield whirred shut automatically above her. The cockpit was full of buttons and flashing lights, all of which were labelled in German and none of which Cosima understood at all.

But there was a joystick, and she grabbed it with both hands and jerked it up.

The bomb tilted up and she half-laughed giddily, slowly levelling the plane out and moving it forward. 

There was no way in hell that she’d be able to land the plane. Luckily, she didn’t have to.

Schmidt’s plane loomed ahead of her, wide exhaust vents gaping in the back.

She shoved the joystick forward and, with a massive crunch and groan of metal, she landed inside the plane.

Her breathing ragged, she punched her way out of the plane, the space too small and bomb too busted to open it the usual way. She found herself in the same cargo room as before, this time alone and with shards of windshield stuck to her uniform. Brushing them off, she ran through the room with much less caution this time. 

The shield practically glowed where she dropped it and she shrugged it back over her arm, its weight feeling like an old friend.

It was something reassuring to have as she slowly advanced into the plane’s cockpit.

The room was vast, the front made almost entirely of windows showing the clouds and ocean hundreds of feet below. At the center of the room, a column glowed blue. Behind that, a chair that was more throne than pilot’s seat loomed, its back facing her.

Her footsteps echoed through the room.

So did the whine of the gun.

She whirled around, catching a glimpse of Schmidt’s red scowl before the blast of energy ricocheted off her shield. 

“You’re quite determined, _fraulein!”_

“Hell yeah,” Cosima spat back, charging.

Two more blasts slammed into the shield and bounced off, and then Cosima was in front of Schmidt, slamming her shield into his arm until he dropped the gun.

He leaped at her instead, forcing her down, and wrapped his hands around her throat.

Super-soldier or no, Cosima still needed to breathe.

She choked, falling flat on her back and the shield clattering to the floor. Schmidt didn’t release his grip, a grin on his face--and the scariest part of it wasn’t the way his smile looked on his hard, red face, but the fact that there was actual joy there, actual satisfaction at watching Cosima’s mouth open in a desperate fight for air, at watching her eyes roll back.

She shut her eyes and reached out blindly, her hand closing around something solid. Without another thought, she grit her teeth and slammed it into his head. 

The crate connected with a dull thunk and Schmidt rolled off her, cursing. She sat up, gasping, and grabbed the shield from where she’d dropped it, rushing him while he was still stunned and forcing him backward. He staggered back a few steps until he was backed up against the column in the center of the room and then pushed back, the two of them ending up rolling along the ground before finding their feet again. Cosima shoved, _hard,_ and immediately regretted it.

Because he backed right into the plane’s controls.

She flew backwards as the plane tipped in a nosedive and Schmidt flung himself after her. For a second she just wants to scoff at him-- _the plane’s going down, we’re both going to die, and your main concern is still that a woman not beat you?_ \--but then they’re grappling in midair and she’s just trying to survive, lashing out with elbows and knees with her back against a steel girder. She got a good kick in and he sailed backward, grabbing onto part of the plane’s side. 

She did the same, trying to catch her breath and plan her next move, while he crawled along the structural beams over to the controls. She tightened her grip on the girder just in time as he leveled the plane back out and gravity suddenly began working properly again.

She let go and landed in a crouch, shield still on her arm, and ran at Schmidt again. 

He sidestepped and grabbed her ponytail and tugged hard enough to land her on the ground. She gasped, the wind knocked out of her, leaving her for the second time with the terrifying feeling of being unable to breathe. Schmidt laughed, and she kicked out, landing a solid blow to the back of his leg and sending him to the ground as well. 

They both scrambled to their feet, facing each other, and Cosima charged, punching him in the stomach before bringing the shield around to hit his head. At the last second he leaned back, the edge of the shield just grazing his throat, and his knee slammed into her gut with the force of a freight train. She fell to her knees and he kicked her again, in the side this time and sending her sprawling on her back.

“You try so hard and all for nothing, little girl!” he spat, looming over her. “Someone like you will _never_ be worthy of the power that was meant for me. Even the country whose colors you wrap yourself in knows this. I have seen the future, _fraulein,_ and there is no place for people like you!”

“Lemme tell you where you can shove your eugenical bullshit,” Cosima gasped, then launched herself up, wrapping her arms around his waist and shoving him backward. He slammed into the column in the center of the room, the top of it breaking off and falling to the floor. 

Blue light crackled through the air like lightning, and Cosima stumbled backward, squinting up at it. 

_“What have you done?”_

Schmidt ran forward and grabbed a cube from the wreckage of the column, glowing the same bright blue as the energy that’d crackled through the room. _The Tessaract,_ Cosima realized, _the actual Tessaract. It has to be._

The Tessaract pulsed once, twice, and then--

Something _bloomed._

The top of the plane disappeared in a haze of stars, more stars than Cosima had ever seen, and swirls of color like clouds of gas, purples and pinks and yellows and blues, all arcing and eddying through the the countless stars.

It was like nothing Cosima had ever seen. It was _beautiful._

She stepped forward, trying to see all of it, to drink it all in, memorize it, _be part_ of it--

She only realized she was reaching up when she saw her outstretched fingers in front of her.

And then Schmidt started screaming.

She tore her eyes away to see Schmidt’s fingers burning and peeling away, the Tessaract glowing brighter and brighter. A surge of pure energy shot out, thick and burning white-hot, and Cosima threw her arm over her eyes and stumbled back.

Schmidt’s screams stopped.

Cosima slowly opened her eyes, in time to see the Tessaract near-silently melting through the metal floor. Schmidt was...gone.

With a hiss, the Tessaract fell through the very bottom of the airplane and disappeared.

Cosima stood slowly, slinging her shield onto her back and crossing over to the plane’s controls. The plane was still hurtling across the Atlantic, with its payload of bombs. She had to get it on the ground, one way or the other.

She still had no idea how to land a plane.

She still didn’t have to.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------

_“This is Captain Sadler, is anyone there? Come in--”_

“Cosima?” Delphine ran forward, shoving Morita, who’d been seated at the radio in their headquarters, out of the way. _“Ma cherie,_ are you all right?”

_“Delphine,”_ Cosima sighed over the crackling radio. _“Schmidt’s dead!”_

“Are you still on the plane?” Delphine asked, wrapping both hands around the radio microphone. Agent Carter and Colonel Phillips both moved forward, trying to give Delphine some privacy but desperately curious at the same time.

_“...Yeah, yeah I am.”_

“Okay,” Delphine said, “Okay, I will--I can get someone to talk you through the landing--”

_“There’s nowhere to land her, Delphine. I have to force her down.”_

“That…” Delphine shook her head, knuckles whitening around the radio microphone. “Cosima, let me get Howard, he’ll--” 

_“It’s moving too fast. I have to…I have to put her in the water.”_

“There’s another way. There has to be. Cosima--” 

_“She’s headed for New York. A plane full of bombs, headed for New York.”_

“We--” Delphine leaned into the microphone as if she could get closer to Cosima that way, her voice breaking. As quietly as they could, the other three left the room. “We just need some time--”

_“We don’t have it.”_ Cosima laughed shakily over the static-filled line. _“All that shit you did for me, Delphine, and we still don’t have enough time.”_ There was a silence, broken by the sound of Cosima’s shaky breaths. _“Delphine?”_

“I’m here, _ma cherie._ I’m here.”

_“You...”_ Cosima swallowed hard, her voice thick with emotion. “You know, I was going to take you dancing.” 

“You were?” 

_“Yeah. Somewhere in the West Village, somewhere nice. I was gonna do this whole thing properly.”_

“Properly?” 

_“Yeah. I was gonna do it right. Send you violets and everything.”_

“Well…” Delphine’s breath caught before she managed to compose herself. Her voice only trembled in the slightest when she spoke again. “Perhaps I will let you make it up to me.”

_“You’ll let me?”_ Cosima half-laughed, half sobbed. _“The cheek!”_

“You are the cheeky one, you brat. Going off and…” Delphine didn’t quite manage to hide her sob. “And stealing a plane from Nazis!” 

_“You’ve got me there.”_ Cosima sniffled over the line. _“Hey, Delphine?”_

Delphine leaned in toward the microphone, her forehead brushing the metal. _“Oui, ma cherie?”_

_“I lo--”_

The radio crackled and hissed loudly, then went dead.

“Cosima?” Delphine whispered, her voice breaking. “Cosima? _COSIMA!”_

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------

An hour later, Agent Carter reentered the room.

“Captain Sadler, come in. Captain Sadler, please come in. Captain Cosima Sadler--”

“Doctor Cormier.” Peggy gently laid her hand over Delphine’s, which were still clutching the microphone like a lifeline. Delphine’s breath hitched, but she kept going, ignoring the dead air on the other end of the line. “Doctor Cormier--” 

“Captain Sadler, Cap--Cosima. Cosima Niehaus, please come in, Cosima--”

“Delphine.” Peggy placed her other hand over Delphine’s, gently prying the blonde’s hands free. Delphine went silent, trembling ever-so-slightly. “Delphine, you need to let go. It’s over.”

“Cosima--”

“It’s over.” Peggy was holding Delphine’s hands now, gently turning her away from the microphone. “It’s over.”

Delphine gasped suddenly, like coming up for air, her hands suddenly shaking as if she was going to break apart. In the next moment, she doubled over as if she’d been shot, slumping out of the chair and onto the ground, her forehead nearly touching the ground. Peggy knelt next to her, releasing Delphine’s wrists so she could hold the broken woman to her chest instead.

“I’m sorry,” Peggy whispered, her voice cracking. Her words were barely audible over Delphine’s soul-deep, wrenching, sobs. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry…”

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Cosima opened her eyes.

Light filtered through a nearby window, the gauzy curtains waving, and the sound of an announcer narrating a baseball game quietly droned on from a radio her left. A pair of black cateye glasses sat on the nightstand and she put them on automatically, slowly sitting up.

The door opened.

A woman stepped in and closed the door behind her, auburn curls falling loosely over her shoulders and a wide tie that matched the color of her pencil skirt around her neck. Her lips were pulled into a relaxed and reassuring smile as she met Cosima’s gaze.

“Good morning,” she said, before checking her watch. “Or should I say, afternoon?” 

“Where am I?” 

“You’re in a recovery room in New York City.” 

“Right,” Cosima said slowly, sighing and looking up at the ceiling. “Where am I, _really?”_

“Captain Sadler, I--”

_“Don’t,”_ she hissed, her gaze snapping back to the woman who suddenly looked a lot smaller. “Don’t bullshit me. Your hair’s not regulation. Your tie’s way too wide. And the game’s from _1941._ So,” she said, standing and slowly stalking over to the woman, not missing the small device that the stranger had slipped out of her sleeve and was now pressing. _“Where am I?”_

“Captain--” the woman began, practically shaking now. “I--” 

Two men marched through the door, armed and dressed in black, and instead of thinking, Cosima reacted. A second later, both men were flying backward through the wall as if it was made of paper.

Cosima jumped through the gap and found that it was made of paper--a paper set in a large, dark room. She turned in a half-circle, found a door, and ran for it.

“Captain Sadler--” Cosima didn’t turn, kicking the door open and finding herself in a crowded hallway full of people in suits, most of whom turned to stare at her as if _she_ was the one in the wrong.

_“All agents, code 13!”_ The woman’s voice blared from overhead speakers and Cosima started running again, shoving people out of the way as she went. _“All agents, code 13!”_

A few of the suited people began chasing her but she was out the doors of the building before they could get near. The noise and lights were near-overwhelming, drowning out all thought, so she just _ran,_ pushing past people and ducking through streets until she couldn’t, a circle of cars blocking her way.

It was _deafening._ Music she didn’t recognize, noises she’d never heard before, all of it poured in from all sides. Billboards were _everywhere,_ flashing and colorful and bright and _moving,_ and none of the people--the people dressed in strange clothes, with strange fabrics, practically not dressed at all--seemed to notice, staring at her instead as she turned around again and again, trying to take it all in, to try and _understand._

“At ease, soldier!” 

A black man strode up to her like he owned the place, wherever this place was, his black coat billowing behind him. 

“Look, I’m sorry about that little show back there,” he said, and all Cosima could do was stare. “But we thought it best to break it to you slowly.”

“What the hell is this?” She’d been aiming for angry, but all that came out was lost and confused. What little she could see of the man’s face softened the smallest fraction.

“You’ve been asleep, Cap. For almost 70 years.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stay tuned for the post-credits scene!


	24. Post-Credits

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for: Character death, mentions of hate crimes and AIDS

**Wham. Wham. Wham. Wham.**

The punching bag flew off the chains and slammed into the back wall of the gym--a training room that could’ve been from 1945, save for the hundreds of tiny ways in which it couldn’t have been. Cosima crossed to the other side of the room and pulled another one back over, hanging it up and settling back into a fighting stance, her expression not flickering an inch.

_“Look, Cap, you’ve been through a lot today--we can do this another time.”_

_“Yeah, because breaking it to me slowly worked so well last time. Just talk to me, Director Fury.”_

**Wham. Wham. Wham.**

_“Your brother Felix died in 1983. He had what we call AIDS--a sort of immune system disorder. I can get you more information about that if you’d like.”_

**Wham. Wham. Wham.**

_“Antoinette--You called him Tony, right?--he died in 1970. He was an active fighter for gay and queer rights. Evidence points to it being a hate crime linked to that fight.”_

The punching bag snapped off its chains. It rolled into the side and she nudged it further, out of the way. Cosima rewrapped her hands, hung up another bag, and started punching again.

A few spots of blood appeared on the wrappings. 

_“Your sister Alison died in 1997, with two adopted children and five grandchildren. Peaceful, in her sleep. She outlived her husband, Donald, by almost ten years.”_

**Wham. Wham.**

_“Your foster mother is very good at escaping surveillance. We lost track of her in the 1950s.”_

**Wham. Wham. Wham.**

Cosima didn’t blink as the third punching bag hit the ground. She didn’t clear this one away either, just dragging and hanging up another.

**Wham. Wham. Wham. Wham.**

_“Your sisters Sarah and Helena were good at avoiding us as well. There are some marriage records--Helena to a Jesse Carter, Sarah to a Cal Morrison--and Kira Manning shows up every now and again, but in the chaos of the 1950’s onward…”_

Blood ran down from her knuckles to her fingertips. Cosima stared at it, dully surprised, and settled back into her stance.

**Wham.Wham.Wham.Wham.**

_“What about Delphine? Doc-Doctor Cormier?”_

_“Doctor Cormier…”_

Cosima pulled back and kicked, the bag swinging wildly on its chain.

_“Doctor Cormier went on a mission looking for your plane. Camping and walking across the Arctic tundra.”_

The chain broke and the bag slammed heavily into the back wall. With an animalistic cry, Cosima launched herself after it, her fists striking the fallen bag over and over.

_“Officially, she’s still missing.”_

_“When?”_

Sand started leaking from the seams of the bag and blood started leaking from her knuckle wraps.

**WhamWhamWham--**

_“About three weeks after your plane crashed.”_

**Wham.**

**Wham.**

**Wham…**

_“I’m sorry, Cap.”_

Cosima raised her fist and let it hang in the air for a heartbeat, then let it fall limply to her side.

_“You gonna be OK?”_

She sobbed.

**Captain America will return in _The Unknown Soldier's Prophecy_**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eight months ago, I had an idea in the shower.
> 
> And now we're here.
> 
> This is, by far, the longest thing I've ever written--if what is written of the sequel is counted along with it, it is over 300 pages and 100,000 words--and there are some people I really, really need to thank. My brilliant, beautiful beta, Noelle (lesbianchristmasangel on tumblr) for one thing. Thank you for enduring my late-night ramblings about this story (of which there were a lot), for reassuring me that people would read this monstrosity that I'd written, and for being there that night when I mentioned "hey, I had a weird idea in the shower" and instead of immediately running for the hills, listening and encouraging me to write it. Without her, this story wouldn't exist, and I'm so grateful, and I love her to bits.
> 
> And to my other wonderful helper, the amazing Chaya (therenegadegabbai on tumblr). Her help and enthusiasm was seriously invaluable throughout this whole thing, giving me another perspective and so, so much information. I really can't thank her enough for all of the help she provided. It means so much to me.
> 
> And of course, to all the wonderful readers and commenters on this story. For sticking with me through this (and hopefully coming along for the sequel!), for all your wonderful words, for just reading this--I can't say how much it means. This story would be purposeless without you. I hope to see you when the sequel gets posted, but until then, I am always around to talk on tumblr at probablytatiana--ask me anything, it gets lonely in that corner of the internet! And sincerely, from the bottom of my heart, thank you.
> 
> <3

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! Additional and massive thanks go to my beta, Noelle (lesbianchristmasangel on tumblr) for reading this and encouraging me to post it, and to Chaya (therenegadegabbai on tumblr) who nobly put up with my many questions and fact-checking. This wouldn't be here without them.
> 
> As always, comments are loved and criticism is encouraged. Come bug me on tumblr at probablytatiana if that's more your style. 
> 
> Thank you again!


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